MaxMariam Drabbles
by AzikaRue394
Summary: A collection of drabbles about this fabulous, but extremely under-appreciated pairing.
1. Proposal

A/N: This is the first in a series of MaxMariam drabbles, if you haven't already noticed. These will stop whenever I run out of cute little ideas. I don't know if that'll ever happen. I'll try to update Connect the Dots soon, but I only have time to do a little writing at the moment.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. I only own the humble plot line; if you can even say a drabble has much of a plot.

Enjoy!

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_**Proposal**_

Mariam prided herself on never being one to cry. If you'd have grown up with all boys, you too would quickly understand that weepy just doesn't cut it.

But she was crying now.

She wouldn't deny that when Max knelt to the gound and held out a diamond ring, she'd been overcome with emotion; he was the only one who could make her feel this way.

"Will you marry me?"

Those baby blue eyes held joy and excitement at her nod and as he slipped the band onto her finger, her tears flowed freely.

"I will."

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A/N: I think this is the shortest thing I've ever written. I'm sorry if it seems vague; I think that little drabbles have a magical air when they're a little airy. I tried to capture a fair bit of emotion in this piece, but failed miserably. I hoped you liked it anyway.

Review?


	2. The Things They Say

A/N: Another drabble is here for all of you. I wasn't so sure about this one; I don't think it's as good as the first one, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I'd like to thank my reviewers for the first drabble and I now introduce to you the second in a long line.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, only the plot (which in part belongs to RedWheeler anyway because we chatted about this briefly so I figured I'd give her some credit).

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_**The Things They Say**_

The steady beeps of the checkout counters were beginning to get on Mariam's nerves as she waited in line, leaning casually against her shopping cart. She ignored the whispers of the other patrons in her choice for this week's grocery shopping and turned to scan the covers of the magazines sitting on the rack to her right. One headline in particular caught her eye.

"How They Do It: Mariam Tate – Three kids and she still has the body of a goddess."

She smirked and picked up the magazine, carefully turning to the page of the article. All she caught were the last few words: "Max is the luckiest guy on Earth." With a grin, Mariam thought of Max at home with the kids, playing Twister. She didn't want to miss a minute of it.

Tossing the magazine back into her cart, she moved forward to check out.

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A/N: Like I said, not as interesting as the first, but don't worry; there's more on the way. I've been focusing a lot on Mariam's side of the relationship, so for my next one, I think I'll give Max some attention.

The next chapter of Connect the Dots is being written in my spare snippets of time. Later in the weekend, I should be able to sit down and write, but we'll see how that goes.

Review?


	3. Her Touch

A/N: This is a special gift for RedWheeler; the one who introduced me to the wondrous world of Mariam running her hands through Max's hair.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or any of it's characters. I own the plot.

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_**Her Touch**_

When Mariam ran her hands through Max's hair time stopped. All of the universe was frozen in an endless display of emotion, closeness of hearts, and love.

Max melted into the gentle feel of his love's touch; a touch that conveyed passion, promises, and dedication. Her touch infused him with feelings of acceptance and new energy.

With this simple gesture, Max could understand exactly what was going through Mariam's mind. Her hands held all the secrets of who she was, what she wanted, and who he was to her.

As Mariam used her hands, entangled in his hair, to pull him deeper into their kiss, Max's heart stopped along with the rest of time and space.

It has always been said that you will know 'The One' comes along; Max knew and judging by the twirling of her fingers in his hair, Mariam knew it, too.

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A/N: I think this is another perfect example of Max and Mariam's perfectly romantic relationship. I was trying to get across the point that these two are truly in love and I think you got the point.

Review?


	4. That One RightSide Up Thing

A/N: I wrote this last night underneath a night light. XD I guess I figured if you liked the last one which was written the same way, this one wouldn't be half bad. If anyone reading this is reading 'Connect the Dots', (Macy) then I'm sorry for the wait; the next chapter is slowly being written, but at least I'm happy with it so far.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

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_**That One Right-Side Up Thing**_

Mariam slammed the front door and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She launched herself into her bedroom, threw her keys, jacket, and purse to the floor, and flung herself upside down onto the king-sized bed.

She lay there for a minute in an attempt to calm her drum roll heartbeat. Failing, she forgot her plight and kicked her feet violently against a pillow. Slightly more calm, she dropped her feet to the bed, buried her face in the comforter and groaned.

The director hadn't been happy with her today, not at all. Apparently, she'd portrayed her character totally wrong and ruined the whole rehearsal. He'd almost made her want to cry with his comments but he wasn't worth her tears.

Things weren't going well for Mariam lately. She hadn't been sleeping enough because of late-night shows and practices and her mornings were disrupted by sickness that she assumed was brought on by stress. Her director was upset with her constantly and she wasn't able to find time to just relax. She could tell Max was worried. She felt like her life was being turned upside down.

Soft footsteps tread into the room. The bed sank with a new weight as Max lay himself down behind his wife and pulled her into his embrace. She rolled around to face him and nuzzled her face into his chest.

Maybe things weren't so bad; she still had him – her only right-side up thing in her upside down world.

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A/N: Does my magic night light work? I spent a fair amount of time with this one on dictionary(dot)com searching for the correct spellings of upside down and right-side up. I can never get the hyphens straight.

This is obviously a long drabble; a drabble is actually supposed to be 100 words even, but I'm never too bothered with making that work. XD I just think that I couldn't leave the impressions I may leave if I don't just let myself go ahead and write however many words I like. I'm stubborn and I like to do things my own way. XD Now that you've gotten a little insight into me:

Review?


	5. Just A Look?

A/N: I was going to try for two today but I don't know if that will still work out. In any case, here's one.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

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_**Just A Look?**_

Max knew he was staring but he felt he couldn't help himself.

Tyson was blathering on about something from his left, but Max wasn't listening. He was too busy staring intently at, perhaps, the most gorgeous young woman to ever set foot on Earth.

He gazed awe-struck at the Saint Shields' only female member as she sat on the opposite side of the room talking with her teammates.

He watched her eyes light up with excitement as her lips peeled back into a grin, showing off two straight rows of perfectly white teeth. Still smiling, her mouth opened partly as wind chime laughter flitted its was to his ears. Her laughter doubled as her team joined in. She tossed her head back at just the right angle so that Max could make out tears of joy sparkling in the corners of her eyes as light passed through the crystallized drops.

It pleased him to see her so happy.

The laughter soon died away and as Mariam wiped the creases of her eyes dry, she turned. Be it chance or because she'd felt his gaze, her eyes met his. He could feel his cheeks heat up as she raised an eyebrow at him. He bowed his head in embarrassment but feeling as if he were the one now being watched, he looked up.

Mariam's lips twitched into a small smile.

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A/N: I really like this one! Unfortunately, that means it could be a total and complete mess and I wouldn't notice. Thoughts?

Review?


	6. Painted Love

A/N: I know this is kind of suckish but it seems like it's been a while since I've written a drabble. (Even though it hasn't been.)

Enjoy?

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

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_**Painted Love**_

With each stroke of his brush Max thought of her, the fight they'd had, and the words they didn't mean. The image of her angry face still scorched his mind to think of. He wiped sweat from his brow as he painted his finishing stroke.

After seeing his work, he hoped she'd make amends.

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Mariam stomped into her room. She was stuck in a limbo between forgiving Max and thriving on words that burned deeply in her heart.

Wrinkling her nose at a foreign scent, she turned to her east-facing wall and gasped. She stared at the newly painted portion of her wall with a stunned expression loitering on her features.

This boy knew his way to her heart; it was, after all, a path he'd worn well. Painted on her wall in gorgeous lettering was the sweetest thing Mariam had ever read.

_My love for you is: _

_A bird that soars through the sky,_

_A fountain that never runs dry,_

_A feeble man who won't cease to try,_

_A soldier not afraid to cry._

_A child who will always reach,_

_A perfect pearl upon a beach,_

_A lunatic who now can preach,_

_Independence that does beseech._

_I love you more than love itself,_

_I refuse to leave you by yourself._

_No matter how hard things may get,_

_Remember, we're not over yet._

"Mariam?"

She whipped around and started slightly to find him inches away from her. How he'd managed to get so close she had no clue.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, his face now even closer to hers.

Mariam smiled and threw herself into his arms. She pressed her lips strongly against his but as quickly as they were there, they were gone.

"Me too."

He grinned and stole another passion-filled kiss. When they parted and were reveling in the last remaining bits of a fairy tale ending, she looked up at him.

"I can't believe you snuck into my room."

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A/N: You don't have to tell me it sucked. It's just here for inspiration. In case you were wondering, yes, I did write that horrible poem. You only have me to blame. XD

Review?


	7. Nightmarish Part 1

A/N: I think it's been a whole day since I've updated. I should be going quicker. XD This is the first part of my drabble duet "Nightmarish". I feel that both sides of this story are interesting.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

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_**Nightmarish**_

_Part One_

Max kept his eyes rested carefully on Mariam. She'd woken him up moments ago with her shallow breathing and tossing and turning. She appeared to be plagued by a feverish nightmare which he confirmed by spying two cheeks tainted with a fever-induced blush.

Max moved his hand to hover over Mariam's face. He longed to touch her cheek, to awake her from this cursed demon of dreams, but something kept his hand floating inches away.

He hated himself for thinking this but with her small whimpers, pink cheeks, and sweet state of surrender, she had a strangely alluring aura about her. It was rare for Mariam to show such vulnerability and when she did she was a different type of beauty, just as wonderful as her usual self. The foreignness of her as she was kept him staring at her as he withdrew his hand.

"MAX!"

She sat up quickly, reaching outward with one hand. Her sudden outcry and movement almost caused him to fall out of bed. Her eyes were wide with fearful memories of what she'd just seen in the twisted world of nightmares. Reaching over, he clasped the frightened girl's hand.

"I'm here."

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A/N: I'm not really fond of this one. I like the next part (Mariam's part) better. I think I'm being a little cruel in these two drabbles so I'm going to have to make the next one I write pure happy goodness.

Review?


	8. Nightmarish Part 2

A/N: Second part!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

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_**Nightmarish**_

_Part Two_

Mariam looked around in the inky black night for any sign of life. She saw none and it worried her. The night was starless, the clouds ever only letting a few beams of precious moonlight fall at a time.

A sudden gust of chilly wind tossed her hair around as Mariam felt herself being drawn forward. Her bare feet felt a damp sandy shore as she walked along. Salty ocean water lapped greedily at her ankles but its freezing temperature barely registered to the blunette in her unsettled, trance-like state.

One foot in front of the other and a vast expanse of endless sky was Mariam's world as she marched forward, never looking back. There was a slight feeling of apprehension clenching in her stomach which made dread rise in her throat. She didn't know what she was meant to find but something told her it wouldn't be good.

It was then that she saw it. Illuminated by a ray from the moon was a small huddled mass. She knelt next to the motionless figure with ghost-like grace and gently rolled him over.

"No."

The single hollow syllable haunted the air as she repeated it over and over allowing her voice to grow in volume and urgency.

"No. No! NO!"

She was screaming now as she looked upon his lifeless face, the face of the one she loved.

"MAX!"

Mariam shot up from her bed with a hand extended in front of her. Her other hand rested over her heart feeling the hastened beat in a state of shock. Her breathing was quick and choppy, evidence of the tears she was crying.

Then a warm hand grasped hers and a comforting, all too familiar voice purred into her ear:

"I'm here."

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A/N: My next drabble won't be anywhere near as depressing and character-torturing as this. I promise.

Review?


	9. Living for the Moment

A/N: Well Fanfiction Audience, it's been a while. Longer than I would've liked, actually. Don't worry! I haven't forgotten about this story or you! As annoyed as my horrible habit of terrible updating makes you, remember that it's been tearing me up inside as well.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade. Leave me alone.

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_**Living for the Moment**_

Mariam couldn't help but think that she was easily fascinated. Then again, Max was such an easy one to be fascinated by.

If you'd asked Mariam years ago if she thought she'd ever be reduced to someone who could spend hours at a time staring at her lover, simply soaking up his presence, she would've told you that you were crazy. But at some point in her life, perhaps when she'd met Max, that had changed. She didn't mind spending time this way. As a matter of fact, she'd grown to embrace, treasure, and need the moments spent quietly with Max.

Impulsively, Mariam reached out and traced the muscles that formed her man's beautifully sculpted torso. She enjoyed the feel of his skin against her fingertip and the shiver she sent ricocheting through his body.

The summer was a hot one. It was an open-window, shirtless-sleeping, lazing around summer that reminded Mariam so much of the previous times she'd spent with Max. Summer afternoons would often find her and her beloved on the beach soaking up sun, playing in the waves, and counting stars at nightfall. These times had been times when they were close friends and nothing more. When they didn't know where the future would take them, and, therefore, lived in the moment, young and reckless.

Mariam grinned. Were those days the equivalent of her 'good old days' people so often spoke of? That's funny, she felt too young to have 'good old days'.

She traced his jawline gently, with an angel's velvet touch.

What made people think that the good old days were so great? Perhaps they'd just lost the child-like quality of living in the moment. The thought made Mariam wish for herself and Max to never grow up. Never would she let either of them lose that quality that so many pass off as childish. If she let that happen, she'd lose everything. The moments between them would never be the same. Every moment spent with him, she considered well lived. That's how it would stay. They were, after all, the moments she lived for.

As she traced Max's lips she felt them upturn into one of his trademark smiles.

He cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?"

"Living _for_ the moment."

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A/N: Have I lost my touch? Did I even have one to begin with?

Review?


	10. Blunder

A/N: This came to be in about fifteen minutes so I apologize if it's not that good or up to my usual standard. I simply had a few spare moments, thought of a cute idea, and put myself to work.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

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_**Blunder**_

Mariam's cheeks were tinged a dusty shade of pink. Not only was she standing in front of a crowd of people in a very non-Mariam-like attire, but Max was standing across from her, holding her hands in a death grip. Poor thing. He looked petrified and overcome with emotion.

Their eyes were locked in a fervor of blissful uncertainty.

Max's blush equaled, if not exceeded, hers. This was embarrassing. In all the pressure, stress, and emotion he'd forgotten, with little hope of remembering in time for his blunder to not be noticed, the most important thing. He'd never live this down.

Mariam leaned forward in the most inconspicuous way possible to whisper in Max's ear.

"You're supposed to say 'I do'."

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A/N: Not bad for fifteen minutes? I should really be working on my oneshots (two MaxMariam ones coming up in the future) but I thought you deserved something sooner.

Review?

P.S.: I'd like to ask anyone reading this if they have any requests for a drabble they'd like to see (not that I don't have an overload of ideas of my own). I'll gladly write you one as a thanks for reading and enjoying my work. Even if you're reading and not reviewing, I'd love to hear from you.

P.P.S: Don't worry Sanich Iyonni. I haven't forgotten about your pending request; it's being worked on. Though that doesn't mean you can't ask for another one as well.


	11. The Princess Can Save Herself

A/N: Well, it hasn't been very long, but I finished this and figured I'd better post it before I forgot; it's in the middle of a bunch of other drabbles in my notebook for one reason or another.

Requests will be done shortly.

Title is blah.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or 'Sports Illustrated'.

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_**The Princess Can Save Herself**_

"Hey Sexy."

Mariam rolled her eyes at the less than cordial greeting the stranger delivered as he casually leaned against her table.

"What do you want?"

"You." he shot back in a way he thought was clever, "I should think that was obvious."

"Disgustingly so." she replied coolly, still determined to ignore the pest as she flicked through a magazine.

"C'mon Babe." he reached out and grasped her cheek, forcing her eyes to look at him instead of her 'Sports Illustrated'. "I've been watching you and Blondy. You're hot and he's practically still just a boy. You deserve better. You deserve a man."

Mariam glared and pushed his hand away.

"If you touch me one more time I swear to the highest steeple of Heaven I'll rearrange your face."

The man raised a deep brown eyebrow.

"Feisty little vixen, aren't you? Well," he droned, splaying a hand across her thigh, "I think I can tame you."

The Saint Shield moved so fast that he never knew what hit him. She stood up and struck his face with a powerful left hook following with another punch from her right hand. The force of the unexpected onslaught had been enough to knock the dazed and embarrassed player to the ground.

Mariam huffed and returned to her seat, ignoring the dumbfounded stares she was now on the receiving end of.

Seconds later Max returned with two ice cream cones. Spying the fallen man he asked his girlfriend, "What happened to him?"

"Him?" Mariam pointed to the guy she'd just finished teaching a lesson. "He definitely slipped."

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A/N: I've got to give RedWheeler credit for this one. She came up with the "He definitely slipped" thing in an email we were tossing around a while back. We actually still have it going. I currently need to find time to reply. Anyway, I simply just widened her idea into a rather large drabble. My work in this one's nothing special, unfortunately.

I'm not sure if this would be better suited as a oneshot or not. I thought it was okay as a drabble, so I'm not going to worry about it (even though it would make an awesome oneshot) This is what happens when I have no time; I get lazy.

Like I said, requests are coming soon. Hopefully.

Review?


	12. Battle of the Ages

This drabble's for Purple-Kissed-Wishes. She requested Max, Mariam, and a water fight, so I'm giving it to her.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Battle of the Ages**_

"Oh, Mariam..." Max's sing-song voice cut through the groggy summertime humidity, though barely. The heavy air clung to everything like a thick velvet stole as the sun shone without mercy. "Where are you?"

Chuckling to himself, the blond Bladebreaker tiptoed along the side of the dojo with his crystal blue eyes fixed on the corner he was sure his girlfriend lurked around. Drops of water fell from his hair into the already-filled-with-ice-cold-water bucket he was ready to pour on whoever was unfortunate enough to be waiting for him; primarily it would be a certain Saint Shield. If not... Here's hoping it wouldn't be Kai.

Around the corner Mariam stood with her back against the wall and a sly expression on her face. She'd gotten hold of a particularly powerful weapon; the hose. The blunette held the spray nozzle as if it was a gun in a classic pose; her elbows were bent, bringing her arms up against her chest as she clutched the hose with both hands.

"Is he coming?" she mouthed to her lookout.

Rick nodded and Mariam grinned at the group she'd collected.

As Max pounced around the corner he was overwhelmed by Mariam and the All Starz. His bucket of ice water was nothing compared to their onslaught of water guns and, of course, the hose. He gave a strangled cry of alarm as Rick, Michael, Eddy, and Steve tackled him and pinned his arms and legs to the ground. He struggled fruitlessly as Mariam moved in for the kill. She crouched over him. With a smirk she tickled his sensitive sides ruthlessly.

"Stop! Please!" he gasped out in between bouts of laughter.

"Not until you say it!"

"Okay, okay!" he sought to end the torture, "You win!"

"Anything else?" she questioned as she stopped and allowed him to catch his breath.

"Congratulations."

He sat up, finally fully released, and latched his lips onto hers satisfyingly.

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A/N: I hope this present was satisfactory! I have to say it was exceedingly fun to write.

Review?

P.S. My sister and I are planning a story that we're going to need Beyblade fanfiction writers' usernames for. None of them will be used in a negative way. This may or may not be the first story on our collaboration account depending if we decide to write it together or not. If any of you are willing to lend your username to our cause, let me know in a review or message. Thanks!


	13. ABC's of a Kiss

I think I'm on a roll because this one was written in one sitting just like my Kai story that I posted today but it's being stupid and not sending alerts out. Sorry, I had to get that out of my system.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade or the alphabet.

Enjoy!

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**_ABC's of a Kiss_**

**A** moment alone.

**B**eautifully big, blue eyes look into mine.

**C**aressing my skin with gentle hands, you lean in,

**D**aring to plant your lips on mine.

**E**mbraces of ours seem to last forever and that's just how I like them; how I'll treasure them.

**F**eather-light are your lips and soft as silk.

**G**ive me more of you.

**H**ear that? Our hearts are beating as one and our lips move to the beat.

**I **find I don't need air when I have you.

**J**ust hold me and I'm okay.

**K**iss me and I'm fantastic.

**L**ove me and I'm yours forever, darling.

**M**y lips dancing with yours drives me crazy, just like you.

**N**othing could ruin the moment.

**O**pposites attract – is that why I can't get enough?

**P**ull me closer,

**Q**uench my thirst for you.

**R**unning my hands through your hair, I feel at home.

**S**lide your arms around my waist and hold me to mirror the hold you have on my heart.

**T**ake me away.

**U**ntie the mangled stitches I've tried to heal my heart with and retie them with the care you use to handle me.

**V**olumes are spoken in seconds. Words are spoken in silence.

**W**e pull apart after what seems like, and for me is, eternity.

**X**-rays of my heart are visible to you through my eyes, but I don't care. I have nothing to hide from you.

**Y**ou smile and move in once more...

**Z**'s the end of the alphabet, and, for it, I couldn't find a word. But I can tell you this, Z may be the end of the alphabet, but there will be no end to us.

I love you Maxie.

Your fiancée,

Mariam

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A/N: Look at Mariam, finally showing some emotion. Her and Max definitely do bring out the best in each other. Some parts are corny, but their relationship revolves around corny, but cute, sentiments.

Review?


	14. Games

This one's a little pathetic compared to the last one I wrote, but RedWheeler needs a pick-me-up, so I thought I'd give her one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Games**_

"Max..." Mariam spoke his name with a teasingly scolding tone.

The blond boy looked up at her innocently. She raised an eyebrow.

"But, I-"

"No buts." Mariam smirked at the frazzled expression he wore. "You can only make one word at a time in Scrabble."

"But-"

"I said, no buts." She wagged a finger at him. "No exceptions for cute, blond boyfriends either, I'm afraid."

Max "humphed" and sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.

Shaking her head, Mariam took her own turn, carefully spelling out a message for him. She then sat back and waited for him to read it.

It was funny watching Max try not to look. He desperately wanted to, but was trying to be stubborn because she'd made him play by the rules she constantly bended. Her excuse was that her English wasn't as good as his, so she needed a handicap.

With a small noise of annoyance, Max finally peeked at the board. Smiling slyly, he leaned forward to massage his lips into hers in accordance to the Scrabble board's order. Some orders were just meant to be followed without question. They pulled apart, satisfaction lingering in the sliver of space between them.

Off of Mariam's 'KISS ME', Max built 'ILUVYOU' and made a note to play Scrabble with Mariam more often.

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A/N: I've been planning this one for a while, but it was originally meant to be a oneshot. I thought it would make an equally as cute drabble so here it is. I apologize ahead of time for any errors because I typed it up extremely quickly; I'm expecting company any minute.

Review?


	15. Lovely Luck

I'm spoiling you with so many updates. I can't figure out if that's a good or bad thing. It's MaxMariam so there has to be some good at least.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Lovely Luck**_

It was another sleepless night for Max, his thoughts keeping him awake more than anything.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was as he watched the steady rise and fall of the slight body as it breathed, reveling in the magic of the cherished moment. From his position by the window he admired the sheet covered figure and how tranquil the atmosphere of the room was in comparison to the storm raging outside that threw raindrops against the windowpane spontaneously and furiously.

By the wavering light of the moon he examined the features he already knew perfectly well. The fine, sea blue hair lay gingerly over the rosy apple of the peaceful face's cheek like an ocean swell. Beneath heavy, ivory eyelids, he knew there were gorgeous stained glass eyes that could brighten up his day with a single glance. The plump, magenta lips that must have been shaped by an angel's well-practiced fingers were parted in their slumber. He knew from experience that, if he was caught spying, they'd upturn into a tender smile. The whole scene created the illusion of a porcelain doll, unable to be shattered by the wind and rain, or any force nature knew.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max caught a small movement. Mariam, who had woken to find him gone, was leaning against the door frame, watching him. Upon being discovered she strolled the length of the room to snuggle into her husband's waiting arms.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she whispered, a smile decorating her face.

He nodded. Both his and Mariam's eyes trained themselves onto their two year-old boy curled beneath the covers.

"We're lucky."

Mariam agreed and kissed Max's cheek lovingly.

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A/N: I think it's cute, but it's not my opinion that matters.

Review?


	16. Puppy Love

I have no idea how long I'll be able to keep up this 'Daily Drabble' spree I've got going, but I'm going to see how long I last. At least I already have tomorrow's written.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Puppy Love**_

Max knew how important feeling secure was to Mariam. She'd spoken to him a few times this week about ways they could insure they were safe if the security system they'd installed upon moving in went awry. He knew that she knew, as well as he did, that it was an unlikely occurrence, but, with their first baby on the way, they were both more anxious than usual.

Max was proud of his solution, though. After a few phone calls he'd managed to obtain two house trained, Rottweiler puppies. He would have preferred to raise them from the ground up himself, but, given the circumstances, there was no way he'd have time to house train them – it wasn't as if he was going to make Mariam run around after them, either. No, this solution was just fine.

He finished adjusting a bow around each of the puppies' necks just as he heard his wife slam the front door shut as she returned home. The puppies' ears perked up instantly, their foreheads wrinkling.

Mariam walked into the kitchen, laden with shopping bags. Immediately, the new guards scampered over to her, nipping at her heels and yapping excitedly.

"Max," Mariam said as she dropped her shopping on the island, "where did these two come from and why are they here?"

"Security." he stated plainly, ignoring the first question he figured was rhetorical.

"So I can get attached then?" the mother-to-be asked, petting the puppy with the green bow.

Max nodded happily, scratching the blue-clad puppy behind the ears.

"Thanks, Maxie."

She loved how incredibly understanding he was. He knew she wasn't usually so concerned about these things and that it would pass in time, but he still took it upon himself to fix the problem.

Mariam threw her arms around Max's neck and kissed him fully on the lips.

* * *

A/N: Half of these end in Max and Mariam kissing. Should I do something about that? Maybe, maybe not. Some of these sentences are long and rambling, but I can't be troubled to go back and edit them. Sorry.

There's a new poll on my profile that pertains to these drabbles. If you want to have a say in what types of drabbles you'll see from me, make sure you vote! Thanks ahead of time!

Review?


	17. In This Place

Here's your daily dose of MaxMariam for your reading pleasure.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade. I also do not think this is necessary to put in every chapter, but I'd like to keep up the habit no matter how much it annoys me.

Enjoy!

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_**In This Place**_

The movie was over a while ago. The end credits rolled and neither of them reached for the remote. Fifteen minutes after the DVD menu had reappeared, the television automatically shut itself off and still, they didn't move, preferring to stare blankly at the black screen.

For Max and Mariam were content with a thing most of the world has forgotten to treasure. Lying there in each other's arms, listening to the rhythmical way their hearts beat as one, and breathing in time with one another was where they were happiest. They refused to be caught up in the hustle and bustle of life. Instead they would curl up together and communicate with small displays of affection such as a kiss or a loving touch.

Max and Mariam were content with stopping and smelling the roses. They were content with just being in this place of silent, unspoken – for it didn't need to be – understanding.

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A/N: Not much to say about this one. I actually had a few things to say, but, would you believe, I can't remember any of them? I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles.

Review?

P.S. Oh, yes! I remember now. I'm thinking that after this had one hundred or more reviews, each of you will get a drabble for being awesome readers and reviewers. So start thinking of your requests now.


	18. Confession

Yadda yadda yadda.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Confession**_

_Dear Mariam, _

_I don't know what made me write this letter. I haven't seen you in months and whatever little you felt toward me, if it was ever anything at all, is surely long gone by now. To be honest, I don't think you ever really liked me in the least to begin with; it was probably all in my imagination. You've probably even forgotten all about me and find it stupid that I haven't been able to do the same. _

_I won't deny that I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I'm plagued with memories of that time we were stuck in that collapsing warehouse together. I don't know why, but it's almost always that memory I can't not think about. It's like those specific moments are stuck on repeat in my mind and I just can't bring myself to hit 'stop'. I can't help but feel like I caught a glimpse of the real you – the being that dwells within your soul – on that day. _

_That's basically why I'm writing this letter. Whether I end up sending it or not, (Come to think of it, I have no idea how to get in contact with you anyway.) I need some way to vent and try to get my feelings straight. You probably know by now how bad guys can be with that. _

_Over the course of thinking about what I was going to say to you, I've come up with one prevailing explanation for the constant reminders of you. Mariam, I think I'm in love with you. _

_I don't understand it and I don't know if I ever will, but I feel- What's the use? I can't explain it. All I know is that when I think of you, it feels right and soon I find myself unable to stop thinking about you and I wonder if you ever think about me. I start to imagine us living out the rest of our lives together happily married with kids and a dog and I know I've now officially lost it. _

_I think I'm going crazy. I don't know if anyone's ever felt this way about someone else before or if I'm just some nut job who needs to be locked up somewhere. And to make things worse, this letter got all jumbled up even though I promised myself I wouldn't go on a rampage. _

_Well, now that I've got this down on paper, maybe I can be a little more rational about things. I'm sorry for passing my messy train of thought onto you but, if you managed to read this far without tossing this letter aside, thanks, Mariam. _

_Love,_

_Max_

Without even taking the time to proofread it, Max slid his letter to Mariam into an envelope. He stared at it for a few minutes before sighing and tossing it into his bedside table's drawer. He collapsed onto his bed, willing himself to forget about her. It wasn't as if anything would ever happen between them anyway.

* * *

A/N: Dramatic irony anyone? Speaking of dramatic irony, I learned about that again in English today. I swear half the stuff they teach me is stuff I already know.

Review?

P.S. Dramatic irony - in literature, a plot device in which the audience's or reader's knowledge of events or individuals surpasses that of the characters. The words and actions of the characters therefore take on a different meaning for the audience or reader than they have for the play's characters. (From dictionary(dot)com.)


	19. Confession Part 2

This one wouldn't have even been written if it wasn't for Demolition-GIRL-33236, so you can thank her. I had something else planned for this drabble, but now it's going to be the next one instead.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Confession Part 2**_

_Dear Max,_

_I hate you. I hate you for making me fall head over heels for you. I hate you for having the nerve to stick around in my head, no matter how many times I try to forget about you. I hate you so much that I could kill you right now if I didn't know you wouldn't be able to read the rest of this letter that I'm not going to send you anyway! I guess I'm really just writing this for self-assurance or something. Why does life always have to be so complicated?_

_Max, I can't be in love with you. For one thing, you're three years younger than me. I know people are always saying that 'age is but a number', but a three year difference is a lot if you're as young as you are. Also, long distance relationships never work out. I'm not really sure if any relationship would work out between us; we're way too different. It's almost unfathomable. _

_The disgusting thing is that whenever I think I've just about gotten over you, a voice comes whispering in my ear reasons why it _would_ be a good thing. It's so frustrating! _

_By the way, you owe me a new alarm clock since I just threw mine up against the wall because of you. Is this what being in love does to people? Because, if it is, I can see why love gets a bad rap. _

_You're lucky no one else is home but my mom right now (she understands teenage girls to a degree) or I'd yell at you for making me act so stupid with the rest of my team here; especially Dunga. That's another reason we wouldn't work – I'd never live it down. _

_The question I find myself asking is, even if everything went wrong, would it be worth it if I got to live a wonderful life with you? My head says no, but my heart says yes. I guess love is kind of like beyblading; you have to know when to play the game with your head and when it's better to follow your heart. _

_Well, thank you for listening, even though you'll never see this. _

_Thanks for nothing, yet everything,_

_Mariam_

_P.S. I think I'd rather follow my heart, should we meet again. _

Mariam folded up the letter and selected a particularly well-worn novel off of her bookshelf to hide it in. She replaced the book and flopped onto her bed with a moan. She listened to the sounds of the village's children playing for a bit, before getting up to go and see what was for dinner.

Love really did do strange things.

* * *

A/N: I don't think I have anything to say.

Review?


	20. Confession Part 3: A Fitting End

And finally, the mini-series, 'Confession', comes to an end.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Confession Part 3: A Fitting End**_

How was it that Mariam could never find anything when she really needed it? It's different when you only _want _something. Then, you can just grudgingly give up your search because it's not necessary that you find what you're looking for. When you absolutely need something and you can't find it, on the other hand, you've got to find a substitute and, if you can't find a substitute, life's suddenly a whole lot harder.

"Any luck?" Max asked, joining Mariam in their bedroom.

"None whatsoever." She placed her hands on her hips in an annoyed manner. "It's driving me up the wall." She looked around the room that she'd just spent fifteen minutes disheveling only to come up short. "How about you?"

"I looked everywhere and couldn't find a thing." He, too, surveyed the room. His eyes came to rest on his wife's bookshelf. "Did you check in there?"

"Why would it be in there?"

"Maybe one of the boys hid it." Max shrugged and went to work pulling out all of her books.

Mariam rolled her eyes and went to work straightening up the bedroom.

As Max tossed a pile of books onto the floor, a piece of paper slid out of one of them. Apprehensively, he glanced over at Mariam and was relieved to find that she hadn't noticed; she was busy putting their bed back in order. Quickly he swiped the folded sheet and stuck it in his pocket. Little did he know that she had just found an unmarked envelope hidden in his pillowcase and stashed it underneath their comforter on her side of the bed. Neither one told the other of their discovery; as a rule, you should always read your spouse's secret letters before confronting them.

A few minutes later, Max triumphantly held up what they'd been fruitlessly searching for – the pacifier. Mariam smiled gratefully; she would have never checked the bookcase. Motioning for her to stay put, the blond left to quell the desperate wails that had begun to sound again from the nursery.

Only when he handed over the pacifier did Mazel, their first baby girl, see it fit to calm down. She watched him with quizzical, green eyes as he sat in the rocking chair and unfolded Mariam's letter.

* * *

Once Max had gone, Mariam took the envelope she'd found out from under the duvet. She finished the short letter quickly, but she was nearly in tears by the time she did. She had no idea Max had been that infatuated with her back then. If she had... Well, who could really say what might've been? After his confession, she would've definitely sent hers along.

Deciding that it was better late than never, she strode over to her books. To her surprise, when she opened the book she was positive she hid her letter in, it was gone.

"Max," she murmured with a smile, putting two and two together.

"Mariam."

She turned around to see Max in the doorway.

"Sorry, Mar. I read your..." he trailed off, recognizing the envelope she held.

"We were just a couple of lovesick kids, huh?" Mariam wiped a few stray tears away.

Max's eyes shown bright for he was also on the verge of tears.

"Mar, if I'd have known-"

"Me too."

After a moment of silence, in which they both sniffled multiple times, Mariam ran over to Max and kissed him with more passion than she had in a long time. They pulled apart, out of breath, and spent the rest of the night telling each other everything they never had before, because there was no telling what a difference it could make.

* * *

A/N: Twentieth drabble! It seems like it's been going on for so much longer than twenty chapters. By the way, we're steadily crawling up to one hundred reviews. So if you want those requests, why don't you go ahead and leave a review?

Please?


	21. Ain't No Sunshine

There's a bit of a story behind this one. Well, it's not exactly a story behind the piece of writing, but the inspiration. This is inspired by the song 'Ain't No Sunshine' as some of you may have guessed. I didn't hear the song until I, being the dork that I am, watched 'Britain's Got Talent' on YouTube. (I have a thing for Britain and British guys. It's definitely the accents. Don't make fun.) Shawn Smith sang it and I immediately fell in love with it. I was just thinking about how I haven't watched the video in a while and I thought I could write a little drabble to go along with it. The End.

I'll post the link to the video on my profile as my 'Link of the Moment' if anyone's interested in watching it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Ain't No Sunshine**_

Max was going through withdrawal. He now knew how it felt to have something, having been foolish enough to think it would last forever, and having it separated from your soul in the most gruesome way imaginable. Why was it always the most precious things that were taken?

"Mariam," he muttered, body shaking, jaw clenched, and voice haunted.

It was snowing outside. In fact, it was a full-blown blizzard, but the flakes were dry, crispy and cold. They were exactly the kind of snowflakes that you couldn't do anything with. Like the pieces of a broken heart, they were numerous and useless.

The sky, or what could be seen of it, was a dark, charcoal color that completely missed both the cheerful feeling of a blue sky and the peaceful feeling of a black night sky. A gray sky was just depressing and made one feel all alone in the world. One wanted to just succumb to sleep and to never wake up.

Max shivered, realizing, not for the first time, that there was a draft slithering through his window. The chill it brought was nothing compared to the icy tentacles of grief that gripped his heart.

Sitting there, Max was convinced the sun would never shine again. How could it if the light of his life was gone?

* * *

A/N: Mariam's not dead, just so you know. I could tell you the whole story, but there wouldn't be a reason to write 'The Quest of Courting Max Tate' if I did that. By the way, it looks like 'Never-Ending' will be the next multi-chapter story I write. That won't be for a while though.

Happy Friday!

Review?


	22. Fascination

If I don't update regularly after this it's because I'm sick. I'm going to try to update, but you know how being sick is.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Fascination**_

The oceanic tresses rolled over his hands in a wave of fragrance. He brought the strands he grasped up to his face and inhaled deeply, admiring the distinct scent and the feeling of the silky waves crashing over him. In a half dazed manner, he pulled away and picked up a brush. He didn't encounter one knot as he ran it through.

"You have nice hair, Mariam."

She idly flipped a page in her book as he put the brush back down and combed his fingers through instead. He loved the feel of it sliding over his hands; it was almost too perfect to be real.

"You're a strange kid, Maxie."

He smiled at her light tone that indicated she didn't mean for her words to be taken to heart. He kept himself amused by twisting sections of her hair and watching them spring back to align themselves with the rest.

"I know."

She whipped him with her hair as she turned her head abruptly, having heard a creak on the stairs. Max turned, too, his actions slowed by the strange fascination he had with her hair. Mariam sighed and tossed her book aside.

"We'd better get downstairs for dinner before your mom gets anxious enough to come barge in and make sure we're not up to a certain something."

He nodded, coming out of his trance.

"I have one request." He turned back to Mariam who was preparing to put her hair back up into its ponytail.

"What would that be?"

"Wear your hair down for dinner."

She gave him a 'Do I have to?' look.

"I like it down." His eyes suddenly looked a lot more big and blue.

"Fine." She sighed. "At least then you can pass your drooling off as hunger." Mariam grinned and (unnecessarily) smoothed her hair some, allowing it to fall into a side part.

As she passed Max on the way out, he was sure to take a deep breath.

* * *

A/N: I think Max may becoming a little attached to Mariam, don't you?

Review?


	23. Sick Day

This one's being put up a little later than I usually upload them. The reason? I just haven't felt like sitting down and typing one freaking page of text. Yeah, I'm pretty pathetic.

Anyway, this one's fitting since I'm sick. Though, admittedly, I'm feeling much better today.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Sick Day**_

Mariam groaned, throwing her millionth tissue down on the bed. She hated being sick. Every time she blew her nose it made no difference, breathing was out of the question, when she did manage to catch a breath she either coughed or sneezed, all food tasted like packing peanuts, whenever she changed positions her head throbbed, she ached all over, she was so out of it that she had no idea what went on most of the time, and, to top it all off, she looked and sounded like a nasally man.

Max returned to their room after another massive upheaval and flopped down on the bed. Mariam rolled onto her stomach and pressed their burning foreheads together, laying halfway on top of him. She traced his jawline, gently, keeping in mind the one advantage of both of them being sick.

"You don't look so good, Maxie," she purred, toying with his fevered mind.

"Well, you look gorgeous." Even in sickness, Max didn't lose his charm.

She rolled her eyes and kissed his lips gently, glad that he'd thought to brush his teeth before coming back to bed.

"Do you want me to call in sick for you?" she offered, nuzzling her nose against his, having pulled away from a rather reluctant-to-part pair of lips.

"You sound enough like me right now to do it, but I don't think anyone's there this early." He eyed the alarm clock on his bedside table as Mariam narrowed her eyes. "It's only three in the morning. There's a chance I'll still be able to go to work and that I'll be the one calling in sick for you."

"Or," Mariam wore a grin that could be compared to the Cheshire Cat's. "we could call in sick for each other and spend the day together." She walked her fingers up his torso and poked him in the chest. "How do you like the sound of that?"

"It's appealing," he admitted.

"Well, then..."

He sighed and reached for the phone. He could always leave a message.

* * *

A/N: Would you believe that I hated this drabble so much that the only part that stayed was the first paragraph? Well, it's true. I've found that being sick can either make you produce amazing writing, or dreadfully crappy stuff. I got stuck with the latter, so here's a completely rewritten piece for you.

Review? Seven more and you all get a request.


	24. Guess What

Another late-hour update. The title is crap because I'm too lazy to come up with anything else. Have a nice day.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Guess What**_

Mariam took long, purposeful strides. Her feet pounded a steady beat into the pavement, the soles of her sneakers sticking slightly in the humidity of the day. She stared straight ahead as she swerved through a great deal of New York's population, desperate to get away from the city's crowded center. She hastened her pace even more, not wanting to shy away at the last minute.

Finally, she reached the all-too-familiar PPB building. Project Power Beyblade had been completed years ago, but they still attached the name to their company and many of its new buildings.

The ex-Saint Shield got through security without a fuss – they knew her well by now. She took the elevator up a few floors and regretted it all the way. If she didn't keep moving, she ended up thinking too much and having to force herself not to turn back. It was all one great reason to take the stairs. By the time the elevator stopped she was pacing back and forth like a caged lion.

Relieved, she dashed out into the brightly lit, all white hallway. In her hurry to get to Max and away from her thoughts, Mariam almost passed up the door she knew he'd be working behind. She took a moment to decide how to say what she needed to. Knowing that coming right out and telling him would be easiest, she bit her lip and knocked on the door.

"Mariam!" Alan exclaimed as he answered the door. "Didn't we tell you to just walk in from now on?"

"To be honest with you, I really can't remember right now and I wouldn't want to disrupt anything." She sounded flustered. "I just really need to talk to Max right now. Can you send him out?"

"Yes, ma'am." He left her at the door as he went to get Max. Mariam couldn't help but smile when she heard Alan say: "Max! The wifey's here! Did you forget a birthday or was it your anniversary?"

Max's response was inaudible, but he met her in the hall within seconds.

"What's up?" he asked. "I thought you were gonna take a cab home after your appointment."

"I have to tell you something." Her hands twisted together nervously.

"What is it?"

"Maxie, I..." She took a shaky breath and clutched his shoulders. "I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped.

"Y-you – really?" he spluttered.

Mariam nodded.

His face lit up to about a thousand watts as he twirled Mariam around, his childlike joy making her laugh along with him. He put her down and kissed her so forcefully that she almost fell backwards, already dizzy from all the spinning they'd done. They were still locked in a passionate embrace when Alan came to see what was going on.

"Are you two up to anything I should call security for?" He always chose the most interesting times to butt in.

Max pulled away from a blushing Mariam. He was somewhat out of breath when he enthused, "I'm gonna be a dad, Alan."

"Well congratulations!" He clapped Max on the back. "Everyone's going to be begging you to name the kid after them, you're going to have to deal with Mariam when she's even more annoying than usual, and, oh, just wait until your mom hears."

"I didn't think about that." Mariam looked mortified.

"All the bad things that are all worth it in the end?" Max questioned.

"No," she shook her head. "Your mom. I'd better get going before-"

"Why aren't you boys working?" Judy asked, rounding the corner.

"Mariam's having a baby." Alan blurted out, reveling in the malicious glare Mariam sent him. It was just so easy to get under her skin sometimes.

"Really?!" she half shouted, pressing her hands over her mouth and widening her big, blue eyes.

Max and Mariam both nodded, knowing that by the end of the day the news would have traveled all around the building twice.

Judy pulled the happy couple into an air-tight hug and proceeded to go off on a soon-to-be grandmother rampage. What were they going to name the baby? When had they found out? When was Mariam due? She didn't look like she was too far along. Who all knew? And it went on and on as she dragged them down the hall.

Alan laughed to himself at the things he did for fun. He'd get an earful from both of them later, but it was definitely worth it.

* * *

A/N: This isn't proofread well, so try to look past any mistakes. I'm off to bed in a few minutes.

Review? This should put us up to or past a hundred. Leave your request in your review or message it to me if you'd rather.


	25. Ice Cream Soda

This is another ridiculously long drabble posted at a late-ish hour. It's soraskybeauty's request. She wanted Max and Mariam flirting over an ice cream soda. They're not technically flirting much, but I like the way it turned out. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Ice Cream Soda**_

Mariam's long ivory legs were draped casually over the booth. Max sat across from her, leaning forward on his elbows and the two exchanged quiet conversation. Several old women looked on disapprovingly at Mariam's short shorts and Max's distressed jeans, turning away to whisper to their little, gray husbands about how no one would ever have been seen in public, dressed like that, back in the day. They were also quite sure to mention the fact that if those two lasted more than a month in this society, it would be a miracle.

What they didn't know was that Max and Mariam had outlasted a month long ago. The couple had been together for three years and were still going strong. Mariam planted her feet back on the floor and twisted around to face her long-time boyfriend. With a few bats of her eyelashes their lips connected, working against each other in a sweet embrace, much to the annoyance of several other diners.

"Ahem."

They looked up at the waitress who stood over them, one hand situated on her hip and the other holding a tray over her head.

"Could you two knock it off? We're getting complaints."

The pair looked around, seeming to only now notice where they were and the vast array of onlookers who couldn't pretend to still be eating quickly enough.

"Oh, here's your float." She set the drink down on the table between them with two straws. She muttered something along the lines of 'lousy kids' as she walked away.

Mariam rolled her eyes and picked up her straw. She ripped off the top half of the wrapper and shot the other half at Max, hitting him right on the nose. She giggled at his befuddled expression with her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Max narrowed his eyes and shot his wrapper at her. He, too, laughed into his hands when it collided with her forehead.

"This is the last time I'm going to tell you two!" The waitress appeared from around the corner, wagging her finger at them. "No public displays of affection, no shooting straw paper," She yanked the wrappers from Mariam's hand, "and keep quiet!"

Mariam thought it wise not to mention the fact that the waitress was causing more of a disturbance than they were. Max collapsed into a fit of laughter, burying his face in his arms as the lady stalked away. Once he'd managed to contain himself, he sat up straight and put his straw into the large, root beer, ice cream soda next to Mariam's.

They both leaned in at the same time, nearly bumping their heads together, and took a drink. When Max saw Mariam staring back at him, inches from his face, with green eyes that she was purposefully making look extra big, he had to pull back and laugh to himself again. Under normal circumstances, he may have been able to keep quiet, but if he wasn't supposed to laugh, that made it all the more likely that he would.

Taking advantage of his hidden face, Mariam picked up their root beer float and took a big gulp without using a straw. She made sure to get some foam over her upper lip, so that she could set her plan in motion.

Max composed himself once more and took another drink. When he looked up, he saw Mariam with a foam mustache. He would've laughed, but then he'd have two angry women after him. Instead he tactfully gestured to his upper lip, hoping she'd get the hint. She feigned embarrassment and licked her lip, careful to just narrowly miss the foamy frame.

Max next tried simply handing her a napkin, certain she was playing games with him. She took it and wiped her mouth, leaving the mustache, yet again. Max gave her a look and she offered up the worst falsely innocent smile he'd ever seen. He sighed and took another sip of their ice cream soda. Mariam tapped him lightly in the shin with her foot. He looked up and she 'tried' to lick off her mustache, pouting when she failed. With an exasperated look, he realized that he'd never win Mariam's game, so he might as well play along.

He leaned over the table and enveloped Mariam's top lip in his. The kiss deepened and several old ladies glared at the young couple who were now having an all-too-obvious make-out session in the diner.

A hand slammed down on the table and they jumped apart. The waitress stood over them, looking incredibly miffed. She'd brought their check with her in the hand that now rested on the table.

"Out," she ordered.

Taking their good time, Max and Mariam payed and left without tipping the waitress. Walking out, they mentally added this place to the long list they kept; a list of places that they'd been kicked out of for no good reason at all.

* * *

A/N: Little old ladies get me every time with their hatred of young people. It's too amusing. We're now officially at one hundred reviews, so anyone who hasn't made a request yet, feel free.

Review?


	26. Ballooning

This would be FuriousFanny's request of Mariam taking Max up in a hot air balloon because she figured Max wouldn't be a big fan of heights. I ran with it and it didn't come out how I expected, but I think it's okay. The title is crap because I can think of nothing else that doesn't sound weird.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Ballooning**_

It was a perfect day for flying as the hot air balloon took off, floating lazily through bright blue skies punctuated by cotton ball clouds. Unfortunately, the afternoon flight was not exactly fun and games for Max as he struggled to keep at least some of his masculinity in check. He wasn't exactly fond of heights and the last thing he needed was for Mariam to see him act like a scared child.

"You okay, Max?" Mariam asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she turned to look at him. It was a good thing she couldn't see too well, because Max figured he looked pretty pale.

He nodded, afraid that if he tried to speak, his voice would betray him. Either that, or he'd vomit. Neither option was very favorable at the moment, so he was glad when she didn't press the subject.

He took a few huge gulps of fresh air, desperate to get some oxygen to his brain through his newfound dizziness. On wobbly legs, he walked over to the edge of the basket to have something to lean on. He quickly regretted it – he'd accidentally looked down.

Memories came flooding back as dread tore at him.

_He was four, skipping along their New York balcony, waiting for the neighborhood dog walker to pass. In the distance the yapping of numerous dogs could be heard. Giggling joyously, the little boy ran over to the railing and was just about to call out to Shelly and the pooches when the toy plane he'd been playing with slipped out of his grasp. He made a few wild grasps into thin air and then he was falling. In a mass of flailing limbs, he tumbled off the balcony._

"Max." Mariam grabbed his shoulder, concerned for the quivering teen whose eyes were glued to a spot some hundreds of feet down.

He jumped and twisted around to latch onto Mariam. For a split second, he'd been dangerously close to falling. Max's eyes were wide with terror and all color was gone from his face. He started to shake again, so Mariam gently pushed him to the floor and knelt beside him as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Maxie?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I thought I could do it, but I just can't."

"I'm guessing you've got a problem with heights, huh, Maxie?" She brushed some hair out of his face. "What happened? Or do you just not like them?"

"I fell off our balcony when I was little," he told her. "I would've died – we live on the top floor – but I landed on someone else's balcony, somehow. No one's sure how it happened."

Mariam sat next to Max and let out a sigh. "My mom was right."

"About what?"

"'Communication is key.'" Mariam quoted, smiling at Max. "If you'd have told me that before we came up here, I wouldn't have brought you up. I mean, the only reason I did was because I thought you'd have fun."

"You're not mad?" A small bit of hope twinkled somewhere in his eyes.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "I can see the clouds just as easily on the ground. In fact, the sky up here looks remarkably similar to the one I see from the ground."

Max beamed and pulled Mariam into a hug.

"Dunga," Mariam called from his arms, "take us down."

"Wimp." Dunga muttered, inaudibly, nearly choking on the cuteness of the pair.

* * *

A/N: No, I don't know why Dunga's flying the balloon. I needed someone and I thought he'd make it interesting. Maybe the rest of his team dared him to learn how to fly one or something.

Review?


	27. Jealousy

This one is b0ldasl0ve's (Fanfiction won't let me put the periods for some odd reason.) request – Mariam jealous. I was happy to comply. Oh, and Happy October, everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Jealousy**_

Green is the color of that little devil we call jealousy – the one that wriggles its way into you and sits, writhing like a dozen snakes, in your innermost conscious. It claws, tears, bites, beats, rips, and shreds, just itching to take you over.

Mariam's eyes were looking extra green lately.

Ever since the news had aired the footage of the BEGA versus BBA tournament, she'd been in a particularly sour mood. The reason, though she'd never admit it, was jealousy. Holed up in her room, all alone, she watched the scenes unfold for the thousandth time, trying to come to terms with her emotions. It wasn't something she did often.

She saw the team she once knew as the Bladebreakers, now with a new, rather short addition, celebrating after a win. Then a picture flashed of _her_ hugging Max.

"Hilary." Mariam frowned.

Why was it so hard for her to see two people hug? Why was she so envious of them – of her? _It's because you love him._ No, she didn't love Max. he was cute in a boyish way, but not someone she looked at as a potential boyfriend. _Liar._

Mariam reached for the remote and turned off her television. A jealous liar was all she was. She laughed bitterly and left to get some air.

* * *

A/N: I would like to say that the length of your requested drabble has nothing to do with how much I like you, how much I liked your request, or anything else like that. I don't plan how long they're going to be, but some just end quicker than others.

I will admit that I could've done this better and I may take a second shot at it later on, but I'm in a bad mood right now because of stupid people I thought were my friends. Here's your tip for the day: Never get a Facebook. Someone may verbally attack your sister forcing you to take immediate action only to have both of those verbal abusers remove you from their friend's list because they're just that mature. To think it all started over an unanswered phone call.

Now that I've finished with that little speech/rant/thing, I hope you liked this!

Review?


	28. Deleted Scene

First of all, I'd like to say sorry for not updating yesterday. I slept in really late which took a good portion of my day away. Then my cousins came over like they do every Friday so I didn't end up with much time to write. For that I apologize.

Anyway, this is Player Zero's request for Max and Mariam stuck somewhere together. It was supposed to be kind of ironic because they were already stuck somewhere together once, but I got a good idea and then realized that it would've had to happened before the canon incident. So I decided to just write my idea and see how you liked it, even though it didn't follow along perfectly with the request.

You'll understand this drabble better if you can figure out when this takes place. I wrote it as if it was a deleted scene from the series, hence the title.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Deleted Scene**_

Everywhere Max looked dust from collapsing drywall and plaster hung, cloud-like, in the air. The ground beneath him shook as he took giant leaps up the stairs, skipping at least two with each stride. He reached the top and ran full throttle down the hall, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"DRACIEL!" he shouted, ending up in a coughing fit.

Ignoring Tyson's frantic calling, he kept going as the building was brought to its knees around him. He needed to find Draciel; they weren't just battle partners, they were friends.

"DRACIEL!"

The dust stung his eyes, making him cry as he began, again, to cough. He was forced to stop and rest because he could feel his throat getting caked with grimy particles. When he was able to ward off his coughing, he was surprised to hear someone else coughing, a little ways down the hall. Unable to see through the polluted air, he felt along the wall as he crept forward.

He was beginning to think that he should be getting to the end of the hallway when one of his feet missed the floor. It sunk straight through a gaping hole. He cried out, twisting and flailing wildly, managing to toss himself forward over the break in the floor.

His success was short-lived, however. Upon jumping across the hole, he'd collided with the same person he'd heard earlier. Both of them lost their footing and stumbled down the floor that had slanted sometime during the destruction of the building. They landed in and industrial elevator whose vertical-opening door promptly slammed shut.

When the dust cleared, Max came face to face with the last person he'd expected to see.

"Mariam?"

"Yes, now can you get off of me?!"

He blushed, realizing that he was practically laying on top of her.

"Sorry."

He climbed off, careful not to make more bodily contact than was necessary. Mariam sat up and brushed herself off, taking extra care in her shoes until her own cheeks lost their tinge. When she looked up, Max had happened to do so as well, and they both turned away quickly. That was what being caught in a compromising position with someone you barely knew did to you.

A resounding crash snapped them out of their embarrassed state.

"We need to get out of here." Mariam got up and approached the door.

"Have you seen Draciel?" Max asked her as they worked together in an attempt to push the door back up.

"What do you think we're looking for?" She sounded annoyed.

Max decided to temporarily ignore her use of the word 'what'.

"I don't think we're gonna get this open, Mariam."

She screamed in frustration and kicked the door. Cursing in her native tongue, she sat down on the quaking floor. Max sighed and sat at her side like a faithful puppy eager to please its livid master.

"We'll get out of here, Mariam." He smiled. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, they'll be carrying us out in body bags. In case you haven't noticed, the building's falling down around us. It won't be long until we're crushed."

"Who." Max glared at her, sick of her pessimistic attitude already.

"What?"

"Draciel's a 'who', not a 'what'." He stood up and banged his fists against the door, calling for help.

"That's not gonna work, kid." Mariam rolled her eyes. "No one will hear you."

"Well, we can't just sit here!" he argued. "We'll be killed! You said so yourself."

"What do you suggest we do, Mr. Know-It-All?!" She got up and stared him down.

"Anything that's not nothing!"

"Anything _is_ not nothing! And the anything you're doing won't get us anywhere!"

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I'm not sure you do!"

"Well, I do!"

"Oh, do you?!"

"Yes!"

"Really?!"

"Yes!"

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

"You're such a child!"

"At least I don't pretend to be something I'm not!"

Mariam growled. Why did he feel the need to get under her skin?

"Shut up!"

"Make me!"

Without thinking, Mariam grabbed his face and kissed him right on the lips. When she pulled away, it was from an astonished Max.

"What was that for?"

"To make you," she stated, plainly.

He brought his fingers to his lips, shocked that she'd kissed him. Just then, a loud boom sounded from below and the door flew open, allowing sounds from the outside to flood in.

"Mariam!" Ozuma's voice was heard in the distance. "Where are you? We have a job to do!"

She looked one last time at Max and ran down the hall, leaping over the crevice that had gotten them stuck in the first place.

Max stayed still, looking utterly confused for a few minutes before darting off to find Draciel. He'd never understand girls, but at least he'd never be trapped with that particularly befuddling one ever again.

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A/N: This gets a little dialog heavy at one point, but I hope it's okay to read. I may or may not have one up tomorrow; I'm going to work hard and try to, but we're going over to my aunt's to celebrate my dad's and my great-uncle's birthday tomorrow afternoon and there's no telling how long I'll be stuck there. Maybe I'll bring my notebook....

Brownie points to whoever can guess when this takes place.

Review?


	29. Grave Visit

Here's Sanich Iyonni's request for some good old-fashioned angst. Max or Mariam visiting the other's grave after one has died from an incurable disease was the request.

The title's a pun. I thought you might need a little nugget of humor to go with your angst-burger.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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**_Grave Visit_**

It was a beautiful day. The sun shone, there was barely a cloud in sight, and a breeze gently wafted around every now and again. Max hated it. He hated how everything and everybody could go on, blissfully ignorant to his suffering or choosing to be as cheery as possible to mock it.

Max knelt down and placed Mariam's wedding bouquet – peace lilies surrounded by forget-me-nots – by her gravestone. She'd never gotten to carry it down the aisle.

"_We can't be married on Friday the thirteenth, Maxie. That's bad luck and we need all the good luck we can get right now. How about a week later – the twentieth?"_

How was he to know that the twentieth would be too late? How could anyone have known?

Out of his pocket he pulled a small, black, velvet box. He opened it and ran his finger over the intricately carved wedding band that had never known the warmth of her hand. He snapped the case shut and dug a hole in the freshly overturned soil. He wrapped the encased ring in a swatch of fabric – the headband she'd bandaged his arm with all those years ago – and tied it tight. He lowered the package into the ground and replaced the dirt. There was now an unremarkable lump over the place where her heart lay, forever still, six feet under.

He bowed his head and cried the tears that never stopped trying to worm their way down his cheeks. Max wanted to die. He couldn't live without Mariam; he'd established that many times prior to this. How could he have known that she would be gone before they got married? The doctor's had given her six months to live and, out of those, she'd gotten two. It wasn't fair.

He choked out sobs just like he had the day she left him forever. Holding his hand, her engagement ring, that she refused to take off, had sparkled in the cruel hospital light. He flung himself over her tombstone and cried into the black marble.

All he could do now was hope that, when he died, he'd see her walking towards him in a silky white dress, bathed in heavenly light, and carrying that forget-me-not bouquet. And that time, death wouldn't do them apart.

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A/N: I hope I did the request justice. I personally liked how this turned out, but I don't know if you'll think the same.

Review?


	30. Spontaneous

I was going to put up another angsty drabble, but I decided that it's better in small amounts. So, this one was quickly written to fill today's slot. This isn't anyone's request; those are still in progress. Sorry I didn't update yesterday; I had no time for my nothingness somehow filled up my day. I may or may not update tomorrow; I'm going to be up at my aunt's petting German Shepard puppies.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Spontaneous**_

Max emerged from the ocean with water cascading off of his body, riding the smooth rollercoaster of his muscles. He shook his head lightly in a way reminiscent of a dog, sending more droplets of water rolling over his speckled cheeks. He glanced over to where Mariam lay, sunning herself. She was the only other occupant of the desolate cove they'd discovered. He trotted over and sat next to her.

After sitting silently for a few minutes, he sighed loudly, clearly bored. Mariam ignored him, rotating her arms to tan the delicate undersides. The blond huffed and crossed his arms, annoyed at what girls considered fun. Suddenly, he got an idea. His lips cracked into a mischievous smile.

He leaned over Mariam and wrung out a portion of his hair onto her stomach. She warily opened one eye a sliver to give him a look. He smiled innocently. Gradually, she slipped back into her restful state, having dried her lean stomach with her boyfriend's discarded shirt.

He recognized defeat, knowing that she'd be expecting him to repeat the act. He would have to make it more spontaneous.

Chuckling to himself, Max picked up a seagull feather and used it to tickle Mariam's toes, before, once again, wringing his hair out over her stomach while she was preoccupied with her highly ticklish feet. She growled, menacingly.

"Ma-mmph!"

She'd sat up to yell at Max, but, instead, ended up smashing her lips up against his as he turned to see her reaction. How was that for spontaneous?

* * *

A/N: Random. Probably riddled with errors because my mom's yelling at me to get to sleep. Nonetheless, a classic MaxMariam moment.

Review?


	31. Reluctance

This one's not a request either. It's just depressing. Sorry about that; I seem to be writing a lot of angst lately. There's really no reason for it, but the ideas I get. Things should start looking up soon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Reluctance**_

It had started as a awkward relationship: blushing hugs, secret meetings, constant worry, and just the first sparks of a fiery love. It had evolved into blunt, limit-testing, fearless, unashamed, and ungovernable passion that far surpassed the more frequently seen red-orange flames to glow white-hot. All that had come to an end with many a tear spilled and a stormy night on their favorite beach.

"I'm leaving Max."

If only he'd seen through her façade. Her eyes were like fogged up windowpanes that would only allow vision into her soul if you found some way to look past them. The thing was, Max couldn't see anything through his tears.

"It's better this way."

No, it wasn't. He loved Mariam! He'd fallen head over heels for her swift comebacks, smarmy comments, sarcastic nature, and soft inner core (which she kept carefully hidden). She couldn't make him believe that this was better.

"Your mom hates me; I ruined the close bond you two used to have. I can't live with that." And it would be so much easier on him if her and Judy weren't constantly at each other's necks.

He didn't care. He couldn't make himself care. What his mom thought wasn't his problem! All he wanted was to wake up and find that this was all some twisted nightmare.

"Max, this isn't easy for me either."

It sure sounded easy. If he'd have had the strength to look her in the eyes, however, he'd know that she spoke the truth. The soul's windows had been clear for only a few seconds to reveal the torn up little girl within.

"You have to understand that I'll always love you. I love you so much that I'm willing to let you go, because it's best."

He stood with clenched fists and a drooped head. Relentless tears of anger, hurt, confusion, and sorrow flooded the freckled plains of his cheeks. It killed her to see him like that. Her life would never be the same without him, nor would his apart from her. Neither of them could go on, but they would try for the sake of one another.

"I don't want you to go, Mariam. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love you."

The easiest thing to do right now would be to stay and not care, right along with Max. Unfortunately, Mariam had once learned that what was easiest, was hardly ever best.

"It's what's best for you." She tried to keep her voice steady.

"You don't know what's best for me," he cried through the bout of seaside wind that was being carried in with the present storm.

"You're so childish, Max." It was one of the things she loved most about him. "I wish I'd never fallen in love with you." It would make her departure so much simpler.

Those words shattered his heart. The ebbing of the sea wore away at the coastline as the words she spoke wore away at him. She couldn't mean that, could she? It just couldn't be so.

"Liar," he spat out, pitifully, lifting his face to see her reaction through his lashes.

It was hard for her to muster the strength to speak, or even acknowledge him. The battle she fought was as much with herself as it was with him. Why couldn't she make him understand that she was only doing what she believed to be best? Why couldn't she come to terms with it herself? The answer came from the deepest depths of her being; she knew it in her heart before her mind even had a notion of it.

_Because it shouldn't have to be this way._

"I'm sorry, Max."

She turned her back on him that night, something he thought would never happen. He cried every tear he had and, when he ran out of tears, he sobbed pathetically as rain drenched him. When he longed for a release of negative energy he screamed a scream that couldn't be heard through the howling winds that engulfed him. It never helped.

Death would have been more sweet than separation by her hand that neither of them really wanted. It was gruesome to think that two people, who were so deeply in love, should have to separate because circumstances beyond their control made it better to be apart.

He trudged back to his house the next morning, soaked to his skin, miserable, and sick in more ways than one. He set off to practice before his parents woke up, where his team was quick to find that he wasn't the same. How could he be when part of him, the best part, was gone?

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A/N: Yes, it's very depressing. I hope you liked it nonetheless. I do have a happy one for tomorrow.

Also, this would've been up earlier today, but Fanfiction was being stupid and wouldn't let me into Document Manager. Silly little Fanfiction, silly, silly.

Also, also, we've decided to breed my dog. I smell puppies!! (That was random, but puppies will make any piece of writing more cheerful.)

Review?


	32. Mariam

This drabble is a bit peppier than the last one. This has been a rollercoaster of emotions lately.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Mariam**_

She was the most important thing to him, so he said her name dozens of times a day.

"Good morning, Mariam."

Her name rolled so easily off of his tongue. It was the sweetest taste he knew.

"See you after work, Mariam."

Did she realize how much he savored her name as they kissed goodbye?

"Do you wanna meet for lunch, Mariam?"

Could she hear the pure love and adoration he felt every time he spoke her name?

"I think I'll have the turkey BLT. How about you, Mariam?"

Her name was so much a pleasure to day that he almost ordered her.

"I get off early, so I'll see you around four, Mariam."

It just meant more chances to say her name.

"I'm home, Mariam!"

Having her come running after he called her made it even better.

"What's for dinner, Mariam?"

Something that complimented the flavor of her name, perhaps?

"That was an excellent roast, Mariam."

It went perfectly with her name.

"Are you coming up to bed, Mariam?"

They had to get a full night of sleep so he could get a few good "Mariam"s in tomorrow.

"Goodnight, Mariam."

Another day well spent.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Maxie."

Don't even get him started about what it did to him when _she_ said _his_ name.

* * *

A/N: Max seems to be obsessing over Mariam. I hope she doesn't mind too much. Something tells me she's okay with it.

Review?


	33. Bloody Lip

I'll admit that I'm not entirely happy with how this one turned out. It's RedWheeler's request of Max, Mariam and a bloody lip. I think I could've done better, but I was stuck with it for a while and finally got an idea that I was somewhat happy with. Actually, 'Reluctance' started out as an attempt at this request and ended as it's own thing.

But, I do think this fits into the quirky early days of Max and Mariam's relationship, so I like it for that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Bloody Lip**_

Max hated the taste of blood. He considered it one of the most vile tastes known to man. It tasted like a telephone pole or something else metallic. That thought led him to remember the many times he'd been fooled into licking a frozen pole and getting his tongue stuck as a youngster, which was another good reason to hate the way blood tasted.

But the taste of blood, no matter how unpleasant, was easily recognized. So, when he got in between Kai and Tyson during a fight that became physical at precisely the wrong time, he knew he was bleeding – and pretty badly, too. As Ray rushed to help stop the flow of blood from his nose and Tyson apologized profusely, Max could only be glad that it wasn't Kai who has struck first or he'd surely have a broken jaw and/or nose.

After much fanfare and arguing about whether or not Max's nose was broken, the blond was able to sneak off by saying he could really use fresh air. He decided to go to the beach – it was his safe haven where he figured no one would bother him. He got there in a reasonable amount of time and sat on a large piece of driftwood that he'd pulled up over the high tide line a long while back.

He had been staring out over the ocean for some time when someone sat next to him. The salty sea smell increased ten-fold and he knew who this must be.

"Hey, Mariam."

"What are you doing here, Max?" the bikini-clad girl asked as she flicked a stringy section of wet hair over her shoulder.

"I always come here," he shrugged.

"Aren't you usually training right now, though?" She had the team's whole schedule memorized – she spent a lot of time spying on them.

"Tyson's trying to argue with Kai again." He turned to look at Mariam, knowing she'd understand because she knew how the Bladebreakers could be.

She nodded and did a double-take.

"Is your lip bleeding?" She hadn't noticed before and, frankly, neither had he.

"Probably," he sighed. "My nose was, too."

"You should probably put something on it. The salt in the air will just make it burn."

He froze as she gently wiped away a trail of blood that had started to trickle down his chin. A deep blush spread over his cheeks.

"I-I don't have anything for it."

"I could give you something." He didn't like the smile on her face.

"That's okay." He inched away as she moved closer. Was it suddenly ten degrees warmer on the beach, or was it just him?

Smirking, Mariam cupped his cheek with her hand and gave him a soft kiss. She pulled away from a wide-eyed Max and ruffled his hair.

"You're a strange kid, Max."

Without another word, she stood up and walked back down to the ocean, swaying her hips as she went. She got too much amusement out of messing with him.

"And she thinks I'm strange?" Max shook his head.

* * *

A/N: I think I like the early days of their relationship... They don't understand each other that much at all and she messes with him constantly. Oh, young love.

I would also like to say that this would've been up last night, but Fanfiction freaked out on me again. It's been doing that a lot lately. I think it hates me.

Review?


	34. Suicidal

This is Demolition-GIRL-33236's request. She wanted Max or Mariam trying to commit suicide, and the other stopping them. So, Macy, Queen of Angsty Suicide, here's your request.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Suicidal**_

Max told himself time and time again that it was worth it. His parents were sick of his moping, his team suffered because he wasn't himself, and Mariam couldn't move on. It was time for him to go. He wrote a letter explaining his decision and left it on his pillow for his parents to find and, hopefully, relay to Mariam. She was, after all, one of the people it was addressed to.

The wind on the beach slapped his hair against his face as if trying to snap him out of his staring trance. He was looking out into the tumultuous sea. Waves tumbled over each other, reaching high up into the sky as ungodly monsters rising from the pits of hell. This was how he'd go – outdone by the thing he loved most. One of the things.

He slipped off his shoes by force of habit and stepped into the stormy ocean. The water lapped at his ankles, wanting so badly to be able to wrap its slick fingers around them and pull him in. Max waded in further until he was waist-deep and shivered. He wondered if he'd drown or freeze to death first.

He thought he heard his name in the roaring wind as he finally threw himself into the dangerously violent sea, but he dismissed it as his imagination. He was a spectacular swimmer, so it took all of his will power to let the waves and currents of the ocean take him. When he thought his lungs would burst, he exhaled only to inhale once more.

The sensation that followed was like nothing he'd ever known. He could literally feel himself fill with water as the salt burned his nostrils. He felt extremely sick to his stomach as the world seemed to wash away around him. He was almost gone when a strong pair of arms wrapped around his torso and dragged him upward. He was out before they reached the surface, the world swirling away in a dizzying array of black, cold water.

When he awoke again, his first thought was that he had died and gone to Heaven. He felt an angelic pair of lips pasted on his. They actually felt like Mariam's – maybe he really was in Heaven. It was only when he opened his eyes and saw the storm around him that he realized he was still alive.

All of a sudden, he sat up and twisted his body to the side to cough up lungfuls of water. A hand patting his back made him remember the arms that had pulled him to safety. When he caught his breath, he turned back around to see who had saved him.

"Mariam?" His utter confusion shone true through his voice. What was she doing here? She'd gone home months ago –the whole way home, back to the village where she'd grown up. When had she came back? Why? He couldn't understand it and he had a feeling he wouldn't even if he was out of his present jostled state.

She stared at him with swollen eyes and turned to walk away.

"Mariam!" He reached out a hand to her, not yet feeling steady enough to stand.

She looked back at him, waiting for the question he'd inevitably ask.

"What are you doing here?" His voice sounded pathetically small.

"What am I doing here?" she shouted through the gale. "I'll tell you what I'm doing here! Tyson called me and said you weren't in any way yourself and that he was worried sick about you – they all are! I took the first plane I could and climbed through your window to avoid confronting your mom. And what did I find?! A suicide letter, Maxie! Do you have any idea how I felt?!

"So I came here only to find you out in the ocean during this God-forsaken storm, about to drown yourself! You didn't hear me when I called and by the time I got there and managed to find you, you were all limp and half dead! I was sure you must be dead when I finally got back to shore, but I gave you mouth to mouth anyway and now you're alive and I have no idea what to say to you!"

"Mariam, I..." His voice faded. Now that she was here, looking at him like that, he couldn't bring himself to explain how he felt. The whole thing seemed stupid and immature now. _And selfish,_ he reminded himself mentally. Seeing her like this made him realize that. He felt horrible.

"Max," He only just now noticed she was crying. She probably had been all along. The rain made a good mask. "don't ever do that to me again."

She collapsed on the ground next to him and sobbed into his shoulder, clinging desperately to him. Max had never seen her cry that much, or at all, before. It made him feel even worse. He held her and cried into her hair, his tears only adding to the salty water they were both soaked in.

Through all their grief, the couple was happy of one thing: They were back in each other's arms where they belonged.

* * *

A/N: I guess this could also be considered a sequel of sorts to "Reluctance" if you want to view it that way. Mariam couldn't stay gone for long. Who could? It's Max.

I have a new poll up on my profile if you want to vote. It's nothing of importance; it's only there to satisfy my own curiosity. I want to know how old I seem to those of you who don't know me. Like I said, it's pretty much pointless.

Review?


	35. By The Fire

This is Ana Caterina's request for MaxMariam fluff where they were married without kids. It's probably the only request that wasn't obviously a request by the title. Anyway, I had quite a time trying to find the perfect moment to write about, but I really like the one I finally settled on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**By The Fire**_

Mariam had her legs curled beneath her so that her feet could be stuck between the cushions of the brown suede couch for warmth. She was laying against Max, who sat next to her, with her wet head on his chest. Her hands were hidden in the sleeves of her bathrobe. One separated her head from Max's chest a little, so as not to completely douse his blue long-sleeved shirt in water. The other was spread across his chest, gently stroking it with her thumb.

Max sat plainly on the couch with a slouch that his mother used to nag him about daily. His socked feet were planted on the shaggy area rug that increased the comfort of the cabin's small living room. He had an arm wrapped around Mariam's waist, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing serving as a relaxant. His other arm rested on the arm of the sofa, his fingers tapping out a random beat.

The fireplace was alight with a blazing fire. Flames licked the charred walls and crackled as sparks danced. It was relaxing to watch the spectacle, tucked safely in each other's arms. The fire and their body heat was enough to keep the newlyweds warm through the mountain's chilly night.

Shadows cast by the uneven light of the fire fluttered over Mariam's pale legs. Max admired the effect as she began to nod off. He'd always known that she was gorgeous, but it was times like this that really hit it home.

He was lucky to have her. He knew that as well as anyone. When news of their engagement was first made public, he'd heard many a story from many a man about how lucky he was and how much they wished to be in his shoes. He hadn't been able to believe that people would actually take the time to write to him, saying things like that. Mariam had laughed the whole thing off and told Max that she was the lucky one, but he never heard of her getting any letters.

Max sighed and pulled the fleece blanket off of the back of the couch. It took some time, but he finally maneuvered himself into a laying down position where neither he nor Mariam would fall off. She was practically laying on top of him. He flung the blanket over them, kissed Mariam goodnight, and let the fading flames lull him to sleep.

* * *

A/N: Plain and simple fluff. Kind of. I think I had things to say, but I can't remember any of them.

Review?


	36. Amnesia

This is another request for Sanich Iyonni. She requested Max with amnesia and Mariam's reaction. Since I wrote another for her, it only seems fair that I open up for more requests for anyone who wants one.

Actually, I've decided that you can make however many requests you like, whenever you like. I'll do my best to get them all written. So, basically, I take MaxMariam requests now. Though, if you wanted to request something else, I wouldn't say no. I'll write something on my profile.

I just wanted to get this out of the way before someone said I was being unfair.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Amnesia**_

"Who are you?"

It was a simple question and it came from the most innocent of mouths. He was so much more childlike now than he'd ever been, so I doubt there's a bone in his body that's not innocent by now.

"Mariam's a nice name."

He had no idea. None. It's funny that I used to mock him for being such a child when, now, he's cursed to be stuck in the mental state of one until he can learn all over again. It breaks my heart to see him like this and I hate that he has to be this way. I could never bring myself to hate him for it, though. He needs my love, more than ever before, and I need to go on loving him for my sake as well as his.

"Did I used to like the beach?"

He loved it. Of course, he wouldn't remember that. He might never remember any of the times we've shared. I guess I should try to get used to it since there's no telling if he'll ever heal completely. I could tell him stories – maybe then something will click and he'll be my same old Maxie.

"Did we really do that? That waitress must have been really mad."

We both laughed at that story and, for a moment, I imagined he was Max again, not the empty shell amnesia made people. I laughed until I cried and when he asked me what was wrong, I told him I was crying because I was happy. There was no reason to tell him a truth that he wouldn't understand. There was no reason to tell him that I was crying for memories he'd never get back. There was no reason to tell him I was crying because I'd lost hope.

"Mariam, if you're my girlfriend, we've kissed right?"

Loads of times. Some of the best times we've had were sealed with a kiss. But I told him the waitress story – he should know. Was he getting at something? Was his condition worse than I thought?

"Would you still kiss me now? Even though I forget what it's like and I didn't remember you, do you still love me enough to kiss me?"

At that point, I thought I'd heard all the heartbreaking questions he could ask. This was something I hadn't expected to come up. There wasn't much to say, but there was something I could do.

I gently cupped his cheek, unsure of how he'd react to my touch. He melted into my hand, leaning his head against it. His handsome blue eyes were wide and soft. Love radiated off of him and I realized, then and there, how much trust he must have to love me just because I said that's how it was. Would it be crazy to think that he maybe even felt something? After all, love knows no bounds.

I kissed him lovingly, pouring my heart into my lips. He was timid at first, but he quickly got used to the intimacy and let me rest a hand on the back of his neck. To this day I consider that our second first kiss.

When we separated, he said he was tired and went up to bed. I left. In the morning I got a phone call from Judy – he remembered everything.

* * *

A/N: I haven't been updating on a very stable schedule. I'm trying to get more stuff done, so this is just how it's going to have to be. Anyway, the prologue of 'Never Ending' is written, so you have that to look forward to once I get some other things done.

Also, you should check out my 'Link of the Moment' in my profile. I hope you find it as awesome as I do.

And I'm sorry if there's any mistakes; I was in a hurry. I'm kind of pressed for time right now.

Review?


	37. Simile

It seems to me like it's been forever since I updated. I'm not sure if it really has been forever or not. My sense of time's totally mixed up; I'm the only one who hears our new puppy crying in the middle of the night, therefore, I'm the only one who'll wake up continually and take her outside. So, I've been up way too much and barely know what day it is. Oh, well. That's enough of my complaining. (I shouldn't even be complaining; I have a puppy for crying out loud!)

Anyway, I'm not really sure how this drabble came about. I started with one simile and it escalated from there, really. And I'm not sure why I keep thinking of Mariam as such a poet, either. One would think she'd say a simple 'I love you.' and let it be.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Simile**_

"You in a simile:

Your eyes:

Sparkling as a chandelier. Blue as the sky. Beautiful as love. Expressive as poetry.

Your lips:

Soft as silk. Sweet as sugar. Gentle as a lamb. Uplifting as a prayer.

Your touch:

Magical as a sunrise. Heart-stopping as a kiss. Heartfelt as an apology. Tender as a promise.

You:

Lovable as a puppy. Perfect as a star. Gorgeous as a masterpiece. Loyal as a soldier.

Mine.

Forever.

No questions asked."

Mariam smiled at her Creative Writing project that her professor had given an A plus. It was nothing much really, but he said he'd been able to feel the emotion she put into it and that was the most important thing. That she could understand; great emotion came from great inspiration.

She set the paper down on Max's back porch and knocked, quickly running to hide afterward. She watched him answer the door, find her note, and read it, with a smile on her face. He was perfect inspiration.

* * *

A/N: No, I don't know why she's taking Creative Writing either... Hey, it's a good excuse to write mushy stuff about your boyfriend and call it poetry. All she has to worry about is getting a nutty professor who thought she was talking about him...ew.

I do hope this was somewhat worth waiting for, terrible excuses for similes aside, but I'll understand if it wasn't since it started out as random ramblings. The next...(is counting)...eighteen (That number may change.) drabbles follow along the lines of a song I've thought for a while was the perfect MaxMariam song. (I've grouped the lines off, but those groups might change which is why I'm not totally sure of the number.) I literally fail at songfics (My EnriqueQueen one has not wanted to be written for several months.) so I decided to do a big connected group of drabbles. You'll find out the song in the next chapter.

I think my notes are longer than the drabble itself...

Review?


	38. Beneath the Stars

I'm not sure if anyone could tell from the title – you probably only could if you listened to the song a zillion times or recently – but the song's 'I'm Only Me When I'm With You' by Taylor Swift. I know a lot of people aren't big country fans, but I love the lyrics to this song, and, if country doesn't make you puke, feel free to listen to the whole thing. I'll post a link to a YouTube video on my profile.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Friday night beneath the stars,_

_In a field behind your yard,"_

* * *

_**Beneath the Stars**_

It was a cool, summer evening – a Friday to be exact – and it was a very special evening indeed. Laughter floated from the dojo as Tyson and his various guests mingled, keeping the party going into the night. Amidst the chitchat, party games, dancing, and general teenage foolishness, no one noticed two party guests slip out. (Truth be told, if their absence had been noticed, the dojo was too full to assume they weren't simply being overlooked.)

The pair, having driven off in the car Max had gotten for his sixteenth birthday exactly one year ago, now lay in the small expanse of grass the Tates called their backyard. Laying on their backs, looking up at the sheet of stars spread out above them, they got an upside-down perspective of being small, meaningless, and insignificant. This made them feel even closer together, for the beauty and splendor of the starry display is something every human being has set in them to enjoy, allowing for common ground that can sometimes not be found otherwise. Combine this with equal feelings of unimportance and the people in question become even closer. When already there though, the ground was made doubly common, as it was in Max and Mariam's case.

"One more year," Max said with a feeling of importance attached to his words.

"One more year until what?" Mariam rolled over onto her side and propped her head up on her hand.

"Until I'm an adult," he answered matter-of-factly, "and until it won't seem so weird to people that we're dating."

"Oh, you mean all those people who shake their heads with disapproving looks when they hear that you're seventeen and I'm twenty?" Max nodded and his girlfriend of two years rolled her eyes. "People talked when we first got together and they'll talk now. Ignore them and they'll get bored. That's what I do."

"I know," he sighed, staring up into the bedazzled sky. "I just wish they wouldn't. You've heard the things they say – it's terrible. They have no respect for us or our privacy. I just feel like our relationship should be ours; they should have no part in it."

"You're getting deep with old age, Maxie," Mariam joked. "Pretty soon you'll be telling me how people should be like stars and keep to themselves, giving each other their own chance to shine." Max raised an eyebrow at her. "Or something else corny like that."

"I don't think I could get quite that corny," he defended with an eye roll – one of the many mannerisms he'd picked up from Mariam.

"I'm not so sure, but we'll go with it since today's your birthday." Mariam used a tone that said Max was lucky she'd given up so easily. He was – Mariam wouldn't let an argument slip by with anyone but him.

"That's sweet of you, really." His sarcasm was another one of Mariam's mannerisms, though he'd adapted it to be more light and playful when he used it.

"Geez, don't get snippy as you get older either." Mariam laughed at her own joke, coaxing Max to laugh along, too by utilizing her incredibly contagious laughter. She was clearly adopting some of his mannerisms as well.

People may have more in common beneath the night sky, but love was what caused total personality swaps.

* * *

A/N: That seems like sort of an odd way to end it, like I could have gone on, but there really wasn't much to go on about. Oh, well. It's okay once you read it through a few times.

I've been trying, and failing, to balance drabbles, other writing projects, other updates, a puppy, schoolwork, and various other responsibilities. Sorry that these aren't being updated on a very nice schedule. This is probably how it will be so that I can get some other work done, but at least I'm not making you wait a month between updates anymore.

Oh, and Mariam didn't tell Max 'Happy Birthday' at all in this because they were hanging out all day. I'm sure a 'Happy Birthday' sneaked in there somewhere.

Review?


	39. Pictures in the Sky

It's been a while – a long while. In reality, it's only been a few days. It's funny how that seems like a long while since there was a point where I was updating daily.

Unfortunately, these past two long delays were only semi-productive. I got three books read, which has no effect on any of you. (Except I can tell you that 'Cat Among the Pigeons', 'Cards on the Table', and 'Three Act Tragedy' all by Agatha Christie are fantastic books.)

I also got the first letter of my ABC Challenge finished, though I don't like it much. (Thanks to Demolition-GIRL-33236 for giving me my words, by the way!) This also won't really affect any of you, unless someone's a Majestics fan.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_You and I are painting pictures in the sky."_

* * *

_**Pictures in the Sky**_

"Mariam, those stars form two M's!"

"They look more like upside-down W's to me. Look at the angle of their legs; it's all wrong."

"I still say it looks like our initials."

"Maybe if you tilt your head and squint."

"But then they're so far away that you can't see them at all."

"And you could still say they're M's even though they're not."

"Well, they are!"

"No, they're not."

"You're seeing things. I suppose there's a heart around them, too?"

"Mariam..."

"What?"

"Look, there _is_ one."

Their love's written in the stars. Either that, or God really loves M&Ms.

* * *

A/N: Clearly, they're meant to be.

I don't know about the totally dialogue style. I think it works for this, though. I hope the conversation can be followed; I payed special attention to that. I wouldn't want someone to have no idea what was going on.

I'd also like to point out that it's my first drabble that's actually one hundred words. I'm proud. Although my computer's saying it's one hundred and twelve words...hmm. I'm pretty sure I counted right.

This almost seems like it fits as my 'main' drabble; it says so clearly that they're meant to be. It's also an outline of their relationship in some ways, like how Max is always so persistent while Mariam's too stubborn to admit she's in love. That sort of thing. Maybe I'm the only one who sees it...

I'm not sure how well it fits with the lyrics, but they're kind of painting pictures in the sky even though Mariam's being too stubborn to see it. Their initials with a heart around them counts as a picture in my book.

Review?


	40. We Don't Say a Thing

I don't think I have anything of substance to say, except that this is a continuation of the same song that the last two went with.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Sometimes we don't say a thing,_

_Just listen to the crickets sing."_

* * *

_**We Don't Say a Thing**_

It was quiet, except for the chirping of the crickets. It wasn't their normal, upbeat music, owing to the humidity of the day that remained stubbornly into the late evening despite the drop in temperature. Instead, a slower, more melancholy symphony was being played.

Not a word had been spoken by the pair laying in the grass for quite some time. An outsider may have thought they were asleep, but they were merely in a state of silent correspondence. It was a favorite pastime of theirs. Such correspondence can only be successful when two people are so deeply in love that over time they've studied each other carefully, with the eyes of someone looking to understand and appreciate. For instance, one may grow to know what a certain gesture, expression, sigh, or touch meant without a verbal statement attached.

Max and Mariam had that intimate relationship. They loved one another with such passion that many people believed impossible for someone of their ages. But Max and Mariam were used to going against the status quo. It is true that one hears of young people who have no business of saying their temporary fling is love, but that wasn't so for these two.

Honestly, how often does one hear of a typical 'in love' couple of today who can be content by merely being in each other's presence? Not very often at all. Therefore it can be said that Max and Mariam's love is untypical and goes against the modern meaning of the word. Hey, it works – they're one couple who's managed to stay together.

* * *

A/N: I suppose I can tell you the results of my poll now. I'm sure I won't be getting any more votes from you all, since you probably already voted. Like I said, I just wanted to satisfy my curiosity.

I got three votes saying I was eighteen, one saying I was seventeen, one saying I was fifteen, and another one saying I was fourteen.

I was surprised that fifty percent of you guys thought I seemed like I was eighteen. I'm only fifteen I'll admit sheepishly. I don't like being fifteen; I don't get along with most people my age. In fact, people do say I seem older, so I guess I wanted to put that to the test. Thanks for your input at any rate!


	41. Everything I Need

I have another drabble for all of you. Consider yourselves lucky. I rushed to finish this one just because I have something I want to tell you afterward.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Everything I need is right here by my side."_

* * *

_**Everything I Need**_

* * *

Mariam couldn't have cared less about debates, beyblading, or living up to the standards she set for herself. Not at that moment.

She didn't need anything but what was right by her side.

She didn't need air, or even to breathe.

She didn't need her heart to beat or the Earth to spin.

Nor did she need gravity or knowledge of any kind.

All she needed was Max.

All she needed was her head on his chest and his arms around her.

All she needed was those big, blue eyes that shined like a dozen sapphires and those adorable, freckled cheeks brushed by golden hair.

All she needed was right there by her side.

* * *

A/N: I like this one. It's short, sweet, simple, satisfying, spectacular, and all those other good s words.

There's an important announcement on my profile. Run along and take a look now and let me know in a review what you think of this drabble and what I have in store for my two-hundred review point.

Review?


	42. Halloween Tricks

Well, FuriousFanny requested Max trick-or-treating and knocking on Mariam's door and here it is. I decided to just stick it up on Halloween and give you a break from the song. Happy Halloween!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Halloween Tricks**_

"Who goes trick-or-treating at a warehouse?" Joseph asked, amazed at the amount of stupidity some people could possess.

"Idiots," Ozuma answered, his nose deep within a book. "Whose turn is it to answer the door?"

"Mariam's," Dunga smirked.

Mariam rolled her eyes and got up to see what the next freak was dressed as. She shoved Dunga's face into his bowl of ice cream as she walked past and ran the rest of the way to the front door. Wondering who would go up to a warehouse without its outside lights on in the middle of the night to ask for candy, she opened the door. A very familiar looking blond stood there.

"Trick or treat!" he proclaimed loudly and Mariam laughed.

"Treat," she answered suggestively with a glint in those emerald eyes.

She grabbed the boy's collar and planted a long, lingering kiss on his lips. She pulled away satisfyingly to look into shocked, wide eyes. She loved his eyes. They were so big, perfect, and...brown?

"Wait! Who are you?!" she shrieked, pushing the inpersonator away.

He stood there frozen for a minute before running off and screaming about crazy ladies to the rest of the 'Bladebreakers'.

Mariam spat repeatedly and cursed broken porch lights.

* * *

A/N: Trick.

Review?


	43. Halloween Treats

I'm not totally evil. Here's part two.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Halloween Treats**_

"Do I have to?" After what happened last time, Mariam was in no mood to answer the door again. "It's not even my turn."

"Yeah, but the last kid ran away screaming bloody murder when you answered. Just do whatever you did to him to this next one." Joseph gave his sister a nudge towards the door.

"Doesn't Dunga want to steal some candy?" Mariam asked, desperate enough to pretend to care about Dunga.

"Nah, the last kid I met had a whole garbage bag full of candy. I'm good." He thought for a moment. "But if that kid drops his candy when he's running away from your face, gather it up for me."

After wishing Dunga a not-so-happy pig-out and telling him to choke on some candy, Mariam walked sluggishly to the front door. She paused in front of it, hoping that the little gremlin would go away or was already gone. Another knock proved the opposite and she reluctantly opened the door.

Immediately a pair of soft lips fell upon hers. They were gone before she could struggle.

"Trick or treat!" Max stood exceptionally close to Mariam, his blue eyes dancing with excitement and a lop-sided grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, some kid dressed as me came trick-or-treating at my house and mentioned that some girl made out with him because he was dressed as me and how he'll be scarred for life and might sue. I thought I'd come surprise you and try to give you as much of a shock as that girl gave him. Who would kiss a random trick-or-treater, anyway? Some fans are too obsessed."

"Yeah," Mariam laughed nervously, "obsessed."

* * *

A/N: Treat.

It would've been bad if someone else had opened the door...my sister pointed that out to me. I have a feeling, if Dunga had answered the door, it would have suddenly become a game of ding-dong ditch.

Review?


	44. Everything About You

I'm finally updating. I'll spare you the whole book I usually write to excuse myself and just say that I was swamped. I am really sorry about that. This should bump me up past two hundred reviews unless my idleness chased people away.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_I know everything about you."_

* * *

_**Everything About You**_

You've got blue eyes and blond hair – a "Hitler baby" as Michael so kindly put it. You have exactly nineteen freckles in winter and thirty or so in the summer. When you blush, less than half are visible. When you smile the left corner of your mouth has a tendency to reach higher than the right, making you the only guy I know who doesn't look dorky with a lopsided grin.

You're right-handed – you tilt your head to the right when we kiss and have a right-hander's launch (which is always a few centimeters off center). When you sign your name it's an athlete's signature – only the M and T are decipherable, leaving the 'ax' and 'ate' to trail off in squiggles.

You love summer: the beach, ice cream, swimming, sunsets, and surfing. You want to teach me how to surf, but I'm not one for being humiliated, thank you very much.

You're favorite holiday is Christmas. You want to take be to New York to spend the holidays with you and your family, but we both know your mother wouldn't appreciate my company. Quite frankly, I wouldn't really enjoys hers either. Though I have to admit that when I came to find you back when the Saint Shields were after your bitbeasts, I marveled at how beautiful New York City would be in the winter with white, fluffy snow everywhere. I've never really seen a proper snowfall – not many people in my village have – but I want to. I want you to show me.

You put mustard on everything It's your favorite condiment and I can't see why. You even put it on noodles and call it your favorite food. You're trying to get me hooked, but it's not working. It will never happen as I keep telling you.

You could never choose between blue, green, and orange as your favorite color, but when I asked you, you blurted out green without thinking. You told me it was because of my eyes and for the first time I found myself able to believe some corny thing a guy said. Your sincerity made it seem not corny at all, actually.

Your birthday's June fifteenth, a day after the American holiday Flag Day. You're an only child. When you're in America, you live in a posh penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park with your mom. When you're in Japan, you live above your dad's hobby shop with him, unless there's a tournament on – then you spend most of your time at the Kinomiya's dojo with the rest of your team.

You think your mom worries too much about you and that she's never given me a good enough chance. You look a lot like her, but you don't act much like her. Although, she's supposedly a sweet person, so I guess you get that from her. Some of your determination must come from her as well. If you're so much like her, how come you love me and she can't stand me?

Anyway, you think of your dad as everything a father should be. He's laid back at times, but firm when he has to be, kind of like you. Sometimes he's your dad and others he's the older brother you asked for every Christmas until you were ten when the joys of public school opened your eyes to certain truths of the world. Ahem. Your dad approves of me, so your taste in women must come from him. Ew – does that mean I have something in common with Judy? I'll choose not to believe that – your taste in women can come from anyone on his side of the family, after all. Anyway, again, I understand he had a 'big brother' moment when he found out you were dating an older woman. I'm not sure how I feel about that...

Your parents aren't divorced like everyone thinks. They're not separated because of a huge argument either. They live in two different countries so that Judy can work in America with the All Starz and your dad can maintain his hobby shop in the country where beyblading began only a short time ago (a wise career move – Japan has more beybladers than any other country). Also, now you can be in the middle of the beyblade circuit when you need to be. Everybody wins.

One thing you don't like about your parents living in two different countries is having to choose between the two of them. For Christmas and New Years your dad goes to New York with you to celebrate, but you have to be with one or the other for any other holiday, including your birthday unless you go on a family vacation.

You'd also prefer not to have to choose between the All Starz and the Bladebreakers. You'll always be more loyal to the Bladebreakers, since they're where you got your start, but you feel like you're letting your mother down if you don't blade for her team every once in a while. Other than that, choosing the Bladebreakers isn't a hard decision – your return to the All Starz elicits comments about how the other team members will be put on the back burner so "Momma's Boy" can battle. It's all in good taste, you say. Yeah right.

But Michael and the rest of them are plenty friendly when you're not cutting in on their beyblading stardom. You've managed to remain friends with them all, despite it all. You're good at that. You could make friends with a fencepost.

That brings me to another point. You look for the best in people and trust them readily, but you're easily broken when that trust is betrayed. You're quick to forgive as long as the offense wasn't anything too distressing. If something really gets to you, you'll spend days milling over it, uncharacteristically distant. Those who don't know you won't bother you, but those who know you like the back of their hand (yours truly) know that you have to be bothered or you'll never talk it out. You're the type of person that has to, in order to remain sane. If left alone, you'll blow up sooner or later and it's never pretty.

When you go after something, you chase it will all your heart. You know what you want and who you are and you act accordingly. You chased after me with all your heart and I look back and love every memory. You do too, you told me so. You wanted a chance and didn't stop until I gave you one. One was all either of us needed. Now we're in love. You say you love me more than anything and I can see it in your eyes that you're telling the truth. I swear sometimes that the truth is all you know how to tell.

It took us a while to come to love, you not so long as me. Your feelings come more readily into words than mine.

Whenever I think of you and of everything you are, I end up thinking just as much about myself... There's something else about you – I'm a part of you. I like it that way. I like _you_ that way, just how you are.

You know, as much as I try to condense all of these little parts of your character, I know that I'll probably never know everything about you and I'll definitely never come close to writing it all down on paper. To some people that would be a scary thought. To me it's the adventure and mystery of being in love. Your corniness is contagious, too, I should mention. There's another piece of your puzzle put in place. Maybe I'll finish it someday.

Yours, forever and always,

Mariam

P.S. Show this to anyone, and you're dead. Only you could make me spill so much of myself into a written sentiment that someone else could end up reading. Jerk.

* * *

A/N: Hopefully the length makes up a little for my lack of updates.

A lot of this was added while I typed it up because I just thought of it at the time. It's hard to write about everything a person is, so I did my best and kept it to things Mariam would notice more than others and I'm pretty sure it didn't work as I thought it would.

My birthday's on Flag Day. No one ever believes me when I say my birthday's a holiday. Well, it's on a holiday, but I say it is a holiday. (On that note, I didn't make up Max's birthday. According to severel sources, it's the June 15th. I was happy when I found it was the day after mine.) There's a reference to another Taylor Swift song in here that I'm sure some of you will be able to spot.

Um... I'll be sending out another notice to all of you who are contestants with the final deadline and some other information pertaining to the contest. Thank you all so much for entering! I'll probably say it a million times by the time we're done, but it really means a lot to me to be able to help spread the MaxMariam love and have you guys' support through it all.

I've also found a couple more MaxMariam songs that remind me of them. I'll post them on my profile once this is uploaded. They're both sung by Selena Gomez, since I bought her CD for my littlest sister Friday. She has some pretty good ones. Her and Demi Lovato; we got both of their CD's. I fail at writing songfics, so I won't be using them unless I get brave. There's one of the songs I'd like to use...I may try.

I told Kamakaze Jazzy I'd keep my eyes open for MaxMariam songs and let her know when I found anything so she could use them for her drabbles. (Hers are really a hundred words! My hero!) Also, as a note to her, I would've told you about "I'm Only Me When I'm With You", but I had wanted to write something with that one for a while, so I didn't. Sorry, that was a bit rude of me to say I'd let you know and turn around and write something myself.

On another note, has Fanfiction freaked out on anyone else lately? I've been trying to publish this chapter for hours and it wasn't letting me log in.

Anyway, thanks for everything!

Review?


	45. Don't Wanna Live Without You

Okay, then _this_ one should bump me up past two hundred reviews. We're at one hundred and ninety-nine right now. So close.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

"_I don't wanna live without you."_

* * *

_**Don't Wanna Live Without You**_

"Your turn." Max smiled smugly, having finally managed to beat Mariam at thumb wrestling. "Tell me a secret – something you've never told anyone before. What don't I know about you?"

He sat forward on his knees and leaned across the coffee table at the center of the Tates' living room. He raised an eyebrow at Mariam, mirroring the look she often gave him. His soft, round, boyish face wasn't used to the expressions her sharp, accentuated visage could house. He looked pretty amusing. Pair that with the diction that wasn't his (they were more like the words of a trying-too-hard flirt) and he was making a fool out of himself. He enjoyed every minute of it.

"You shouldn't try so hard, Max." Mariam leaned forward as well and executed the raised-eyebrow expression the proper way. "I can't take you seriously."

"Have you ever?"

"Not really."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully and then shrugged. "Fair enough. That can't be your secret though."

"Fine," Mariam sighed, faking a certain degree of airy boredom. "You want me to tell you something I've never told anybody else?"

Max nodded earnestly.

Mariam cupped his face and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his ear. He shivered and instinctively tried to pull away as her breath tickled his skin. She held fast and hissed a phrase she'd never said to anyone before.

"I don't want to live without you."

Max let out a breath he held as a nervous habit. "Mariam, that's-" His breath hitched as her lips caught his cheek. "-sweet."

Two hands tightened around a mug. Judy tiptoed back into the kitchen, annoyed by Mariam's terrorizing of her son and sweet nothings that she couldn't whisper just a bit louder. Why did their secrets have to be so secret?

* * *

A/N: Judy was thrown in for my amusement.

Did you all get the new chapter notifications for the last chapter? I didn't get mine until the next day so I just wanted to make sure everyone got them, because it would be just like Fanfiction to wait until I wouldn't send out messages to not send the notifications to everyone.

Review? Who will get number two hundred?


	46. In a Crazy World

Yes, I finally got around to finishing another one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_Just a small-town boy and girl,_

_Living in a crazy world."_

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_**In a Crazy World**_

Love is an amazing thing. It is gentle, kind, and all that jazz, but there was something else about love that Max and Mariam both agreed was much more amazing. It wasn't the strong hold it had on you or the way it grew in time. Nor was it the way it sent the most levelheaded people spiraling out of control in a twister of emotion. All of those things were appreciated by the couple, but there was something even more amazing that struck them speechless at the mere thought of it.

What amazed Max and Mariam was how love comes to everyone, even the girl from rural China and the boy from urban New York. You don't have to be anyone special, or a perfect person to know love. It comes to anyone who seeks it wholeheartedly and then accepts it. In their case, Max had sought out Mariam's love and she had, eventually, given him what he was looking for. It wasn't long after that that each of them learned to accept the other's affection, no matter how awkwardly it may have been shown. They were in love.

Still, over the course of their fully blooming relationship they encountered obstacles. In some cases, they stood strong, while in others they found themselves crumbling under the pressure of it all. But it was their pure form of love that made everything okay at the end of the day in this crazy world. It was their love for each other, a love that few take the time to search for, that made everything seem as perfect as it had that sunny splendor of a day when they'd shared their first kiss. A bond made in love, can never be broken.

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A/N: I'm afraid it doesn't really go with the lyrics so much, but it's what I wrote and I'm not going to deprive you of MaxMariam any longer so I can rewrite it. Anyway, I like this, as mixed up and philosophical as it is.

I'm determined not to let my notes become longer than the actual drabble, so I'll cut it off here.

Review?


	47. What Is and Isn't True

I don't like this one. It wouldn't turn out properly, but I figured I might as well post it now, because there's no sense in making you wait any longer for something that won't be much better anyway.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_Trying to figure out what is and isn't true."_

* * *

_**What Is and Isn't True**_

**I**t's always been hard for us to read between the lines, to see what's invisible and know what's not spoken. Like most human beings, we're completely oblivious. How, then, are we supposed to know if our love is **t**rue? We bicker, then we kiss and at the end of the day we say we're in love, but what if our love is nothing more that a hoax? What we call love nowadays isn't always love, but a teenager's illusion of the word. Illusion**s** can**'**t be true – that would be an oxymoron.

But you know what I think? I think that the love we share is raw, not simplified by society, but confused by us. We confuse our own love, just like people confuse life. Look at it this way: love, just like life, is a mystery. **T**he answer can only be found by sifting th**r**ough clues and bits of conversation and when you solve it, you realize what yo**u** were looking for was right in front of your face the whole time. What's in front of your fac**e**?

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A/N: Like I said, I don't like this one. Maybe you have another opinion, maybe not. I did manage to put in a little bit of cleverness, though. That's a plus, I guess.

Either Max or Mariam could have written this. I'll leave that up to you. It seems more like a Max thing to me, I think.

I'll continue judging and hopefully my next drabble will house the results. Remember, I need all of your drabble requests, too. It'll give me something to think about while I judge and such.

Review?


	48. I Don't Try to Hide My Tears

It's been a long while since I did anything. It's actually been two weeks since the contest deadline. I'm always disgustingly busy this time of year. I don't know why I decided to hold a contest this time of year. I guess I'm just crazy. I don't regret it, though, because it was fun. Yes, the results will be at the bottom of the drabble. Skip to there if you like, because this drabble's nothing special.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_And I don't try to hide my tears,_

_My secrets or my deepest fears."_

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_**I Don't Try to Hide My Tears**_

Max walked quickly, weaving in between people going about their daily business, with his eyes set at the end of the hallway. He passed dozens of white doors before stopping in front of one in particular, fearful of what lay inside.

"Where are they?" He directed his question at Ozuma and Dunga. It was more of an odd way to ask permission to enter the room. They weren't standing on either side of room 431 for nothing, after all.

"In there." Ozuma nodded to the door, never taking his eyes off of the boy who stood out of breath and worried in front of him.

Max thanked them and went to open the door. His hand has just clasped the handle when Dunga spoke.

"Mariam wanted to be alone, you know. That's why we're not in there. She doesn't want company."

"But she needs it," Max insisted.

A "You'll be sorry." sounded as he opened the door and slid into the room. It was stark white, just like everything else in the hospital. Several machines kept tabs on the thin figure in the bed as he lay unconscious. Joseph was frighteningly paler than usual, par from his cheeks which were stained scarlet by his fever. One-hundred and four degrees Fahrenheit – forty degrees Celsius. Needless to say, he wasn't in the best condition. Mariam sat by the side of his bed, loosely holding his hand with her head resting in her arm, facing her brother.

"Mariam."

"What are you doing here?" she spat angrily, lifting her head to look at the intruder. "I told them I wanted to be left alone."

Max felt a shock of pity when he noticed her red cheeks and puffy eyes.

"Go!" she ordered, voice cracking.

Max simply shook his head.

She looked away in disgust.

"You've been crying, Mariam."

"No, I haven't," she denied flatly.

"Then you must have a fever to rival Joseph's." Only Max was stubborn and sweet enough for Mariam. He knew just how to push her buttons and produce a positive result.

"Listen," the Saint Shield stood up and turned to Max, "I know I look horrible. I don't need you making fun of me."

"But, I'm not," he said. "Honest. I was just calling your bluff." When she said nothing he sighed. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong with him or am I going to have to look at his chart?"

Mariam sat down on the bed dejectedly. "Pneumonia," she muttered, studying her hands folded in her lap. "We were outside at night in the rain walking and talking – just me and him. We both ended up sick with colds, but his only got worse."

Max sad down beside her and held her hand. She didn't pull back, but she didn't tighten her hand around his either. She just sat and stared. "There was nothing you could do, Mariam."

"I could've taken more care of him. I'm his older sister – it's my job. Seeing him lying there, I feel like I've failed him." She gave a small, bitter chuckle. "Why am I telling you this? It's not like you really care."

"I do care, Mariam. I'm your boyfriend, that's my job. I actually probably shouldn't care as much as I do, but I do." He studied her for a moment. "Why do you hide so much of yourself? Your fear for Joseph's safety and your crying about his current situation – it's all kept secret."

"I don't try to." She gave a halfway smile. "Self-preservation, I guess. What little of an image I have has to be kept."

Max smiled and hugged her.

"Why are you hugging me?" she asked stiffly.

"Just hug me back, no questions."

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a little hug.

"Get a room."

Mariam snapped her head around to see Joseph staring accusingly back. "When did you get up?"

"Just in time to see you and your boyfriend tangled up in each other's arms on my bed."

"If you weren't sick I'd hit you for making that sound so suggestive."

As brother and sister argued, Max tactfully slipped out. His work was done.

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A/N: It wasn't anything special, once more.

Just to keep you in suspense a little while longer, not that anyone didn't already peek, I wanted to ask a question. Do you guys have any New Year's resolutions I should make for these drabbles? I've gotten off track with my daily routine that I had going, but January starts a new year. Any suggestions?

Anyway, I did have more to say, I think, but I can never remember. On to the contest results, I suppose. It took me longer than I thought to judge. All of your oneshots were spectacular and you made it a really tough decision.

RedWheeler won the poll, so she automatically places either first, second or third.

That being said, I've awarded Kamakaze Jazzy third place for her oneshot elaborating on four kisses Max and Mariam almost shared and one that they did. The format was original and each kiss was original and it's own little gem. It's one that I could definitely go back and reread over and over. She gets a MaxMariam oneshot request as her prize. That's a tad different from what my rules say, but I felt that I had to make second and third place prizes a little different.

RedWheeler has been given second place. I can't really say enough about her oneshot. It was funny, sweet, and cute. Adding Rick, Judy and the rest of the AllStarz was a nice touch – I can hardly keep from putting them in my MaxMariam, myself. The Mariam and Judy rivalry happens to be one of my favorites and it was kept alive exceedingly well in this. She gets a oneshot request also. No restrictions character-, genre-, and plot-wise.

And now for first place. When I read my first place choice, I automatically knew it was going to have to place. It was a really original take on their first kiss, and for that, it won first. So the person who gets two oneshot requests without any restrictions character- or genre-wise, is Kinkajouu. I would never have imagined that Max and Mariam's first kiss would be in a jail cell.

Congratulations to all of you! And thanks to all who entered! Remember, each of you gets a drabble request that you can consider my Christmas present to you. Also, anyone who's reading this can request a drabble, as well, just because I'm feeling generous this Christmas. Though keep in mind that they may be late Christmas presents if I can't kick myself into gear quick enough.

Review?


	49. Merriest Christmas of All

It's been a while. I hate being too busy to write. I'm actually beginning this one while my sisters are upstairs with our friend who's sleeping over. It's eleven-thirty at night, I might add. I need to get something published before 2010! Anyway, this is a late Christmas drabble, for your reading pleasure. Written as I'm typing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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_**Merriest Christmas of All**_

Saintly snowflakes float onto the frosty ground as horse hooves mark it temporarily. Their lucky shape is but a momentary imprint in winter's magical dust storm.

Flakes fly in a frenzy, settling in a dainty layer on hair and eyelashes, fleece coats and blankets draped across laps, shimmering manes and red velvet reigns.

Icy breezes chill to the bone and the pair moves closer, sharing body heat. They intertwine their arms, cuddling together in the sleigh under the luminescent moonlight.

Rather suddenly their attention is drawn to a small berried plant dangling above their heads. They've stopped underneath a trellis, surrounded by naught but a flurry-filled field.

Awkward smiles are exchanged and mouths crowned with holly berry red lips near each other. Breath becomes a cloudy curtain between the two as they wait, expectant, beneath the mistletoe.

A plunge is taken after a deep inhalation by both parties of Jack Frost's prized Christmas Eve air. Lips move with the same cheer and wonder that the holidays bring.

They pull apart smiling; he all dimples and freckles, her all cheekbones and blush. They wish each other Merry Christmas, and many, many more.

Her head takes his shoulder, his head takes her head, and they ride towards home, both finally content.

For every year after, they'd repeat their journey, preserving not just any Christmas spirit, but the spirit of a couple's first Christmas together. For that's the merriest Christmas of all.

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A/N: I was going to maybe write a poem, but that's pretty much impossible for a spur of the moment thing. Maybe next year I'll be more on top of things, or maybe not. Well, anyway, that's why it may sound a bit poetic.

I wanted it to sound a little magical and dreamlike, as well. I think I've achieved that to one degree or another. You can interpret it as you wish as far as whether it was actually a dream, a fantasy, or reality.

This makes me want to celebrate Christmas all over again.

Anyway, Merry Christmas, however belated it may be. Depending on how my time goes, I may be able to post a New Year's drabble sometime before it's actually here.

Review?


	50. Nobody Gets Me Like You Do

So, I'm skipping my New Year drabble for this year. Why? Because I want to work on something that's not going to be considered late. It's like a fresh start. So my first priority will be to finish my collection of "I'm Only Me When I'm With You" drabbles. When that's wrapped up, I'll be glad to start something less structured which will probably be any requests I've received.

Anyway, this one's a queer sort of drabble, because it's not like my others. There's much more dialogue than usual, which is meant to create a sort of rushed affect. The whole rhythm and idea of the thing is to make it seem like a chance meeting in the street where Mariam is either very anxious to get away from Max, or has somewhere else to be. Max had previously annoyed her, or maybe his presence just got on her nerves. The whole meeting would literally take about ten seconds to happen, which is why it's so unique. It's not like my usual stuff, that's for sure. There are even some differences that I can't put my finger on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_Through it all nobody gets me like you do."_

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_**Nobody Gets Me Like You Do**_

"You are insufferable."

"How so?" He quickened his pace to keep up with me.

"I've only known you for a short while and you already get under my skin." He had no input, so I went on. "How do you know how to push my buttons so well?"

"I guess I just get you, Mariam."

"Get me? Because collapsing buildings, life and death situations, and an ongoing feud are all excellent ways to get to know someone."

"You're not as complex as you think."

I stopped, rolled my eyes, and walked away from the only guy who'd ever 'get' me.

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A/N: Yeah, it's one hundred words. My second drabble that actually follows the rules.

Review?


	51. Everything About Me

Yeah, this has been a long time coming. I'm still having trouble getting into my writing groove again. My multi-chapter stories are being severely neglected and I have about fifty other things started. I keep getting new ideas...I think I need to sell them or something.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_You know everything about me."_

* * *

_**Everything About Me**_

"Me? Tell you about myself?"

Max nodded beseechingly.

Mariam strummed her fingernails on her mug and looked around the Tate's living room for some distraction. With a sigh of defeat she set her mug down on the coffee table between she and Max and leaned back in her chair. "What do you want to know?"

He shrugged. "Anything and everything, I guess."

"That's a lot, Max."

"Yeah..."

"Well I kind of need something to start with or... Can't you just ask questions?."

"That's not the same."

"So?"

"Mariam," he whined, pouting. "You're so difficult."

"I can't help it – I suck at telling people about myself. I never know what they want to know."

"Anything!"

"Nope, sorry."

Max huffed and lay back on the couch, muttering something along the lines of, "I'm her boyfriend and I know nothing about her. We'll see how far we get now."

Mariam rolled her eyes. What a child. Still, it was better to give in to the kid than let him mope pathetically about the whole thing. She was feeling generous today. And there was always some way to get free of Max's demands. You just had to know him. Thankfully, Mariam was an expert. She got up and hopped over the coffee table to sit on the couch. She leaned over Max, placing her elbows on his chest to prop herself up. He looked perfectly awkward.

Now, to choose facts that she could afford to let him know. Nothing too revealing. "I come from a miniscule village in China. My mom's a doctor, not exactly traditional in our society. Dad's an archaeologist in charge of looking for potentially dangerous bitbeasts and sealing them before they get accidentally unleashed. They married young, as is the tradition. I still don't see what they saw in each other – they're completely different. Anyway, I was born within the first year of their marriage and the rest is history."

"Keep going," Max urged, blushing because of her close proximity. "You've told me more about your parents than you. I'll never know anything about you at this rate."

"You know, Max. I could go back to the village and marry someone there who wasn't as prying and annoying as you are." She traced his jawline with a pointer finger.

"You're full of it," he choked out.

She gave him half a smile. "You know me too well, kid. I'm too attached to you to leave and I am in no rush whatsoever to get married. Ew! I shudder at the thought! None of the guys from my village are my type, anyway – they're all looking for a wife they can boss around. Plus I'm related to most of them. It's called a clan for a reason."

"Keep going." His heart was racing. Why did he always feel so light-headed and breathless when she was close to him? Maybe because he knew that she was almost always plotting something that would catch him off-guard. It didn't help that she was practically laying on top of him either. If his mom could see them right now...

"Alright, then I will, if you insist." She twirled a lock of his hair around her pinky.

"I do," he muttered, barely able to remain sane.

"That's nice." She drew patterns on his chest with her fingertips.

He blushed.

Mariam smirked, and went on. "I've wanted a way out of that village my whole life. Everyone else seemed content hanging around and living a boring, dreary life. Not me. I grew tired and bored. Nothing was any fun, it was the same old routine everyday. Then I got into beyblading – it's been a part of our culture for years. I'd found my way out. And now that you and I have a steady relationship going, I may end up being able to go to school in America, like I always wanted. And, no, I'm not using you."

"I never thought you were, Mariam. Give me more credit than that."

With a poke of his nose she said, "Your mother might jump to the conclusion."

"She's not home." For some reason, his blush deepened.

"That would be an incredible show of trust on her part. I wouldn't be surprised if she was lurking somewhere." She stood up and took a stroll around the room, peeking behind the curtains and out into the connecting rooms. "Just because we can't see her doesn't mean she's not here."

"Quit trying to distract me, Mariam." He sat up to give her and amused and accusing stare. Now that she was out of his personal bubble, he could breathe easier and get some oxygen to his brain to maintain logical thought processes."You can't get out of this. You're doing pretty good so far."

"Fine," Mariam sat on the couch and leaned her back against his so that they were seated back to back. "But there's not very much more to tell."

"Um, yeah, there is. Can't you give me any more details? Your file didn't exactly say very much."

"What?"

"Oops." How had that slipped out?! It was her fault! She'd gotten too close again! Even when she wasn't face to face with him she drove him crazy! What kind of spell did she have him under?!

"You read my file?!" Mariam was flabbergasted that Max would stoop to such a level to find out more about her. "The BBA one?"

"Kind of..." he answered, fearful of her reaction.

"I'm flattered."

"Huh?"

"Little Maxie broke a rule for me." She laughed. "What would your mother say?"

He blushed as she leaned her head back over his shoulder. "I don't think she'd be pleased..."

"Undoubtedly." After a brief pause, she spoke again. "There's something else about me you should know, Max." She watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, nervous, as he always was when he knew she had an ace up her sleeve. "I'm a sucker for blue eyes." She gently kissed his cheek. "Freckles are a plus, too." With one more peck, she picked up her mug and took a swig of the lukewarm coffee.

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A/N: It's random...and I'm paranoid that it doesn't make very much sense. I went over it a few times, but I'm a little out of it right now for no apparent reason. I think it's at least mildly entertaining. The ending's abrupt, but it's meant to be. What happens next is up to you to interpret.

I find it funny how, even when Max thinks he has the upper hand, Mariam has it.

Review?


	52. Can't Live Without Me

I'm on a roll for these past couple days. So here's another drabble, though it's not as interesting as the last one.

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_You say that you can't live without me."_

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_**Can't Live Without Me**_

"I can't live without you."

That was what the latest love letter said. He had a habit of leaving crazy sentiments scattered all over the place. Sometimes she'd find one in her shoe, or stuffed in her jacket pocket. He'd even sent her roses on Valentine's Day with an overly corny poem that she couldn't help but read over and over, no matter how forced the rhymes were.

But this note unsettled Mariam. It proved that Max was more than fond of her – he was madly in love. It forced her to realize that she, too was head over heels. Their relationship was serious – they were serious! Oh my, was that unsettling.

It dawned on Mariam right then and there that she'd be with Max until the day she died. It was a bright future, indeed.

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A/N: I don't think I have anything to say... Other than I think I'm waiting on a few requests from my contest winners. If you haven't requested for your prize yet, drop me a line. Thanks!

Review?


	53. Only You Can Tell

I don't think I have anything to say, so I'll just get on with it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

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"_When I'm with anybody else,_

_It's so hard to be myself,_

_And only you can tell."_

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_**Only You Can Tell**_

Max spend a lot of time studying Mariam. She wasn't much of a talker when it came to herself, which was a good and bad thing. Good, because she could never be egotistical, but bad, because Max was forced to deduce whatever he wanted to know through observation. It often led to the people thinking he was exceedingly lovesick and desperate for the attentions of a girl who would never care as much for him as he did for her.

But Mariam _did_ care – Max knew she did. She was just unwilling to admit it at times. He didn't blame her. Admitting things nowadays made you an entirely new person in light of whatever you'd said. Instead of being the same old person who you'd always been, you were labeled according to the new piece of information. You turned into the guy with a thing for legs or the girl who loved Max Tate, even though you never changed. And that's why Max watched, because she cared, and so did he.

After one such session, Max walked purposefully up to Mariam as she left the crowd of other beybladers. He walked with her until they were a decent distance away from the throng. Then:

"You're two-faced, Mariam," he accused.

"Excuse me?" she questioned, puzzled by how he seemed to have suddenly turned on her. "I thought you were madly in love with me, now you go insulting me?"

"I'm just stating a fact," he told her. "I thought you should know that how you act with them isn't how you act when you're with me."

Mariam shrugged. "Who cares?"

Max chuckled at her nonchalant attitude. "Would you believe that you're even less open with them than you are with me?"

"You don't say."

"Yes, I do."

"That's remarkable."

"See?!" he exclaimed in triumph. "You'd never joke around like this with anybody else!"

"And you're only just now noticing that?"

"Well, I-"

"Oh, Maxie." Mariam faced him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips hovered over his. "You've still got a lot of spying to do – you're only scratching the surface." She gave him a quick peck and walked away. "Just so you know," she called, "that's another thing I don't do with anybody else."

He grinned and gently brought his fingers to his lips. Was it wrong to think a lot of yourself for having such a person as Mariam all to your own? He decided against the fact.

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A/N: Again, I'll ask for any requests that I haven't gotten yet. I need them so I can write them. I want to make sure my contestants all get their prizes and such.

Review?


	54. I'm Only Up When You're Not Down

So, I had this finished for a week or so now, but I forgot about it and haven't typed it up yet. It just passed my mind a few minutes ago and I decided to sit down and type it to avoid any MaxMariam deprivation.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Enjoy!

* * *

_"That I'm only up when you're not down"_

* * *

_**I'm Only Up When You're Not Down**_

Mariam would've skipped if it hadn't been for a want to maintain her dignity. She'd just received a very good piece of news and was carrying it in an official looking white envelope to go and show Max. She let herself into the dojo and made her way back to the training room where she presumed the Bladebreakers would be congregating like they always were.

"Hey, Mariam!" Hilary greeted, being the first to spot the Saint Shield in the doorway.

"Do you know what's up with Max?" Tyson blurted out before anyone else had a chance to bring up the subject.

"What do you mean?" Mariam asked, concerned for the blond blader. He had been fine when she'd spoken with him yesterday. What could have possibly happened since then that she didn't know about? "Didn't he show up today?" She'd long ago noticed Max wasn't in the room.

"He's out on the porch," Ray said. "He's upset, but he won't say what's wrong. He thinks we'd laugh at him or something."

Mariam thanked the group for how little they helped and went outside to see Max. He was sitting on the porch, gazing emptily out into the distance. his whole posture screamed out how distressed he was and Mariam was beginning to think that something was actually very wrong.

"Maxie?" She sat cautiously at his side. "What's wrong?"

He heaved a sigh. "You'd just think I was being stupid if I told you," Max mumbled dejectedly.

Mariam felt herself totally overcome with sadness in light of Max being upset. She just couldn't bring herself to be happy, even at her own good news, when Max wasn't.

"No, Max, I wouldn't. I promise. It's obviously important to you, so…" She sent him a reassuring smile as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

Mariam nodded.

"Okay, well…" He looked at her with the possibly saddest blue eyes she'd ever seen on him. "My gerbil died."

Mariam's mouth formed a small 'o' of understanding. "I'm sorry." A dead house pet had never been so tragic. She supposed it was because what mattered to Max, mattered to her to some extent. If something bothered Max, it affected her, so it, in a sense bothered her, too. Wow. She had got it bad.

"What's that?" Max broke Mariam out of her reverie, staring with interest at the envelope she held.

"It's really not appropriate, giving certain circumstances…"

"Mariam, I'm going to be nineteen this summer. I think I'll get over Nugget's death soon enough." He hesitated, before adding, "It's probably time I grew up some anyway. Nineteen year olds don't cry over dead gerbils."

"I find sensitivity charming in men." Mariam looped her arm through his. "Besides, you're not nineteen yet."

"I guess not." He smiled wryly. "So, what's in the envelope?"

"See for yourself." She passed him the envelope and watched as he opened it and read the contents of the letter inside. His eyes widened considerably. "You got in?"

"Yes," Mariam beamed.

"That's fantastic!" He grinned wildly and pulled her into a hug, before swiftly kissing her lips. "C'mon!" He pulled her to her feet and led the way into the dojo. "This calls for celebration."

"What does? The fact that I got into a college in New York, or the fact that now I'll be on hand to get under your mother's skin whenever I want?" Mariam was back up to being excited, now that Max wasn't feeling down anymore. Now, she felt absolutely no guilt in showing her excitement.

"You're funny, real funny," Max giggled, and gave her a tug towards the dojo to share the good news with his friends.

* * *

A/N: I still need drabble and oneshot requests from my contest. In the near future I'll compile a list of who owes me requests and send out messages, just so everyone knows what's what and I can relax, knowing that everyone is going to get what I owe them.

Review?


	55. Don't Wanna Fly

Um, this is long awaited.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

* * *

_"Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground"  
_

* * *

_**Don't Wanna Fly**_

"Mariam." His tone was more serious than it had ever been. His eyebrows were furrowed together in taut determination, his jaw line set. This was one thing he'd fight her for. "Just because you got in and I didn't isn't any reason for you not to go. I'm not going to let you throw this opportunity away because of me."

"Max, the only reason I wanted to go was because of you! If you're not going, I'm not going – it's as simple as that." She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, sending his stare back tenfold.

"That's not the _only_ reason, Mariam. You've wanted to go to an American college practically your whole life and you're not giving up on that just because of me. I won't let you!"

His bout of firm willingness to argue annoyed Mariam, and she spit out: "I'm a big girl. You can't let me not do anything."

Max groaned and brushed his hands through his messy locks. "Why can't you just let me win an argument for once?"

"Because I'm not going if you're not going and that's final," Mariam said stubbornly, jabbing him in the chest with her pointer finger.

Max groaned again and walked a small circle around his New York apartment, grumbling to himself. Mariam raised an eyebrow at the back of his head and he whipped around suddenly.

"What's this really about, Mariam?"

Mariam snorted. "I should think that was obvious."

"No, I mean, what's it _really_ about? I know you care about me, but I can't help but think that you would normally be just fine with me attending any of the other colleges in the area I've applied to."

"We did have a plan, Max. And if you don't go through with it…well, it's really more of a two person plan. Why would I do it on my own?"

"No, Mariam. This isn't about our plan. There's got to be more to it than that. We both knew that that might not work out."

"Listen, Max-"

"No, Mariam, I think you should listen. Is this about getting one up on my mom, or – or me falling for some other stupid girl or something? Because I don't think-"

"It's not like that, Max."

"Then maybe you should tell me what it is like, because I don't think you're being entirely honest with me!"

Mariam huffed exasperatedly. "Max, you've wanted to go to this college forever. Not only do I not understand how I got in and you didn't, but I'm at a loss to explain how you think I'd feel going there with the knowledge that you can't."

They were only a few feet away at that point and Max could see a familiar fire burning in her eyes. Mariam smiled slightly and closed the wide gap between them, cupping Max's cheek in her hand. "I'm not going if you're not going. I'm not going _because_ you're not going. I'd feel too guilty."

"Mar, you don't have to do that."

"I want to. And it's not like I have no other options. Even if we don't go to the same school, at least I won't be going to the one you've been dreaming of your entire life."

"But-"

"No buts. Just surrender, because you know you'll never win. I can go on for hours."

Max sighed, finally beaten, and leaned in for a kiss.

Slow, sarcastic applause sounded from the other side of the room.

"Fabulous! Simply fabulous! Let's run it again, but this time, say it like you really mean it and shed a tear or two."

"Michael," Mariam drawled twisting around in Max's embrace to look at the baseball player. "Don't you ever knock?"

Michael shrugged. "Judy gave me permission to bust in whenever I want when you two are here alone."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"No idea," he replied to Mariam's question in such a way that she wasn't sure if he was sarcastic or not. "But, seriously you two, why the "at least I won't be going to the one you've been dreaming of" junk? I thought the whole point was that you were both going and that it was awesome."

"I didn't get in," Max said, disappointment lingering somewhere in his tone.

"Oh? That's funny." He whipped the rejection letter out with neither Max nor Mariam knowing how he'd gotten it, and scanned it thoughtfully. "'Cause I thought Maxwell Bates was the one getting rejected."

"What?" Max ripped the letter from Michael's hand and looked for himself.

"Last time I checked, you were Max _Tate_, and there was nothing well about you."

Max and Mariam made dubious eye contact. Shortly thereafter all three teenagers burst into hysterical laughter. For years the line heard every time the subject arose was: "Leave it to Max to misread the letter."

* * *

A/N: That was long for something that's meant to be short, if that makes sense. Only three left after this and I can get to working on the drabble requests.

I thought that branching off of the last drabble would fit rather well for this line in the song, so that's what I did.


	56. You Drive Me Crazy

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.

* * *

_It's like no matter what I do  
Yeah, you drive me crazy half the time_

* * *

_**You Drive Me Crazy**_

"Max…" Mariam glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow. "I'm warning you…"

Max smiled and stared innocently at the Saint Shield, turning his attention back to the television.

Mariam rolled her eyes. The movie they were watching was, in a word, boring, but since Mariam had picked it out she was reluctant to give in and turn it off. She had been rather insistent, figuring it had to be a decent movie since it was in the horror genre. What she hadn't accounted for was the ketchup blood, oh-so-mysterious killer who happened to wear the same boots as the protagonist's boyfriend, and cliché plot that had been done time and time again. So, in short, Mariam was too proud to say the movie she'd chosen sucked.

"Eee!" Mariam squealed when Max once again jabbed her lightly in the ribs with his pointer finger. After squirming away, she sent him another glare. "Stop."

"Are you scared?"

"No – you just surprised me."

"Then why did you jump?" he persisted, studying her face.

"I said you surprised me!" Mariam hissed, "And it's just getting to the part where the killer is revealed so shush!"

"But we both know it's the boyfriend. They commented on the profoundness and rarity of those boots twice at the beginning."

"That could just be a red herring."

"Yeah, maybe if the girlfriend wasn't the only one left alive."

"Sh!"

Max huffed and leaned back into the cushy couch, allowing the too-soft cushions to partially consume him. He looked over at Mariam who was leaning forward so as not to be subjected to the same fate as her boyfriend. She was seated in an almost twisted way, no doubt trying to stay away from his prodding finger. Sliding over as best he could, Max reached over and poked Mariam in the side once more.

"Max!" she exclaimed, whipping around to face him. "How many times have you poked me during this movie?!"

"Forty-two – I was trying to get to fifty."

"Well do you have any idea how annoying it is?! Where did you get such an idea anyway?"

"Joseph," Max answered with a sheepish grin prancing onto his features. "He told me you were uncommonly ticklish."

Mariam sighed, throwing herself back into the couch. "I'll have to do something with that boy."

Max giggled into his hand and shot Mariam a look, only to find her looking back. "What?" he inquired quickly, afraid that she had some sick form of torture in store for him as well.

Mariam scooted towards Max and he scrambled to get away. Before he knew it he ran out of sofa and gulped nervously as Mariam reached him. She smiled at the guilty and fearful expression on his face, before wrapping her arms around his neck and planting her lips on top of his. Max melted into her embrace, grateful to finally have something interesting going on after watching that trashy movie for an hour. She unwound her arms from his neck as they broke apart, staring into his eyes from mere inches away.

"Er…was that my punishment?" Max asked uncertainly.

Mariam shook her head from side to side slowly. "You're not so lucky," she replied, poking his ribcage, causing him to fidget.

"You're not going to…"

Mariam nodded deviously. "I'll give you a three second head start."

Max bolted up and shot out of the room with Mariam following almost immediately.

"No, don't! Don't tickle me!"

"Well, then don't drive me absolutely crazy!"

* * *

A/N: Well, that was pretty random. It took me a while to think of a semi-original way for Max to drive Mariam crazy and this came to mind. So, let me know what you think.

Two more to go until I can write requests!


	57. What I Feel is True

[Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.]

-.-.-  
_  
The other half I'm only trying to let you know, that what I feel is true._

_-.-.-_

_**What I Feel is True**_

Mariam couldn't believe she was doing this. As she stood at the granite countertop slicing and slicing, she hoped Max realized that she was only doing this because she loved him. And she hoped it was showing him that she _truly_ loved him. And she hoped it showed _her_ – his mom – as well. She wouldn't just do this for anyone – put herself through this agony and torture. They'd both better realize that or so help her-

"Mariam."

Mariam gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, forcing out her words with the exhale. "Yes, Judy?"

"You're not slicing those carrots thin enough."

"Well, okay then," Mariam muttered sarcastically to herself, going back over the carrots she'd already cut to make them fit for Judy's salad. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glance of Max and his dad watching from a safe distance at the dining room table. Mr. Tate watched as if Mariam and Judy were a volcano that would surely erupt, and Max watched with a small, hopeful smile.

Mariam mouthed an "I love you" and his grin grew.

"Ahem."

She turned to face Judy. "Thinner?"

Judy smirked, shaking her head. "Thicker – ground carrots won't do."

Mariam groaned inwardly and, with a roll of her eyes, reached for a new carrot, discarding the shards of the old one in the process. At least she knew she was good enough for Max.

-.-.-

[A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this one, hence why I've got it up so quickly. I figured, what better way for Mariam to show Max she truly loved him than to attempt to get along with and help his mother for a period of time? That's some true dedication.

Only one more to go!

And Fanfiction is being a *insert expletive here* lately, so I bring you a drabble without proper line breaks.]


	58. I'm Only Me When I'm With You

[Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.]

-.-.-

"_Yeah, I'm only me, who I wanna be,  
Yeah, I'm only me when I'm with you."_

-.-.-

_**I'm Only Me When I'm With You**_

I'm laughing. My stomach is aching and tears are leaking out of my eyes no matter what I do to stop them. I bend over, clutching my stomach, barely able to stand up because of the hilarity of the situation. You're laughing, too – a full blown belly laugh to rival my own. I fall to the ground, unable to support myself anymore and you collapse beside me. I remember you calling me two-faced and I laugh harder, because you were right. I'm a totally different person in your company.

"Two-faced!" you gasp out between laughs.

I can't hear myself laugh anymore after that and Dunga growls, apparently not finding the bucket-of-water-over-the-door trick as amusing as you and I.

-.-.-

[A/N: Hallelujah! I'm finally done with the "I'm Only Me When I'm With You" drabbles! Now I can get to working on requests and all that good stuff. Don't get me wrong; I enjoyed these. I'm just ready for a change of pace.

Seems Mariam and Max make a mischievous pair. I don't see Mariam as a usual contender for this sort of immature mischief, but who could resist when it's Dunga?]


	59. When They Were Young

This is Sanich Iyonni's request of Max and Mariam meeting when they were younger, which of course they would not remember when they were older. I tried hard to keep them (mainly Mariam) in character, but bear with me if something doesn't sit right. Max was easy, Mariam was hard, because I can't imagine her being exactly as she is now back when she was eight, so I kind of wrote her personality halfway.

Anyway, it's been a while since I've written anything, let alone MaxMariam – I'm excited! I got a few drabble requests finished in my spare time during camp last week, so expect more to come! Also, I have about fifteen oneshots started, too, so hopefully you'll see an onslaught of stuff from me in the next few months.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, Blue's Clues, or the Salvation Army (a second-hand store where people bring used clothing and stuff).

_**When They Were Young**_

Max Tate brushed his fluffy, blond hair out of his eyes once more and sighed deeply. He whimpered as a twinge of pain slipped through his stomach with the action, and rubbed at his stitches with annoyance - they were irritating.

His blue eyes swept over the room and all of its dullness. Nothing but a few chairs, a couch, a TV whose remote he couldn't reach, the bed he lay in, and a load of unnecessary machinery wasted away in the dreary hospital room, which was enough to make any bouncy five year-old bored out of his mind. And with his mom out on a coffee run at the nearest café and his dad held up at the shop, there was nothing he could do for himself but mope.

Max frowned and made a noise of frustration, kicking his covers off for something to do. He froze as another mild pain tickled at his freshly stitched stomach. With another wince here and a hiss there, the small blonde boy dragged himself up into a sitting position, and stared at his door, hoping against hope that something or someone would appear from behind it to entertain him.

He had no sooner started to wish on the sun in desperation (Blue's Clues had taught him the sun was a star, after all) when his door was flung open and an oddly dressed girl with long, messy blue hair rushed in. She made it in just before the door bounced off the wall and swung shut.

Max stared for a long time at her as she leaned against the bottom of his bed catching her breath. She patted her hand over her heart to slow the beating, like Max had seen his mother do last June when she'd rushed upstairs after he'd screamed bloody murder over a spider in his bedroom. Anyway, this girl was doubled over dramatically with her hands on her knees and head drooped forward, as if she was recovering from an Olympic relay race. Whoever she was, she really was the weirdest person he'd ever laid eyes on.

Curiosity overwhelming him, Max crawled slowly to the bottom of his bed as if he was approaching some wild animal. Sensing his closer proximity, the mysterious girl snapped her head up and came face to face with him. Both jumped at the sudden sight of one another, and seemed able to do nothing more than stare.

"Um…" Max muttered as he studied her unique earrings and bright green eyes, lips twitching up into a smile. He opened his mouth again to continue his blurb, but he was quickly silenced when the intruder decided to have some words of her own.

"I'm not here!" she stage-whispered, and quickly scrambled into bed with him and hid under the covers.

With a high-pitched giggle, Max burrowed himself in next to her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, with excitement etched in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes at him and made a lip-zipping motion in his direction.

After a sigh and a bout of silence, Max spoke again: "What's your name?"

She glared at him from out of the corner of her eye. "If I tell you my name will you shut up and not blow my cover?"

"What cover?" Max blurted before he could stop himself.

Another glare was sent his way. "My name's Mariam. Now zip it!"

Max thought Mariam was a pretty name. It wasn't the kind of name he'd have guessed to belong to her. But when you said it in your head a few times, it sounded sharp enough to fit her sharp attitude. He nodded, satisfied.

"Well, I'm Max!" The blond pointed to himself with his thumb as Mariam frowned severely at the fact that he was talking again. "I'm here because they had to take my glossary out! See?" He sat up on his knees and lifted his shirt to reveal the small line of stitches dabbled across the lower right portion of his stomach. "I was scared, but Mommy said it would be okay, but I still cried a little. Not a lot, though – just a little. So they took me into a big room and made me fall asleep so I wouldn't feel a thing! Then, a little while later, I woke up in here with Mommy and Daddy, except, Mommy needed coffee (not "crappy hospital bile with the same name") and Daddy had to work in the shop, so I'm here all alone. Except not now, because you're here and we're friends!" He replaced his shirt with a sense of accomplishment and looked over to find Mariam's face buried in the covers. "Mariam?"

She mumbled something, but it was too muffled to make out.

"Huh?"

Mariam dislodged her head from its cocoon of bedding and pointedly rolled her eyes. "Glossary?"

"Maybe it was the table of contents or index…I don't remember. Something from a library book."

"Your appendix."

"Yeah, that was it!" He rolled over onto his back and kicked the covers up towards his pillow. Mariam grimaced and pulled them back down with an indignant grumble in an effort to remain camouflaged. "How about you?" Max asked. "Why are you here?"

She sighed loudly and answered, "I hit my head, so they brought me here, but I ran, because no one comes out of the back room alive."

"Huh?"

"That's what Dunga said. So when they tried to take me back, I ran like the wind."

"But they don't want to hurt you, Mariam," Max insisted. "They want to help you, just like they helped me."

"How do you know they helped you?" Mariam questioned snidely. "You don't know what all they took out. Maybe your parents aren't here because they can't stand to see you die!"

Max's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Eep!"

Mariam crossed her arms and smirked, fully enjoying watching him squirm.

"Hold on…" Max was skeptic. "If I was gonna die, then Mommy would've taken my clothes and stuff home, or to the Salvation Army. Maybe you should stop listening to that Dunga guy – he sounds like an ape."

"Maybe you're right…" Mariam was remembering the time when Dunga had convinced her that blue hair meant death by drowning at age seven and she'd refused to bathe until her mom and half of the village has set her straight. "He is an ape. You're not bad for a five year-old."

Max beamed, displaying his whole set of pearly whites.

Just then the door opened and Judy Tate came walking in with her coffee. She froze at the sight of Mariam curled up in Max's bed, and opened her mouth to tell her off. Before she could muster a single syllable, though, the weird, green-eyed girl shot out the door, spilling coffee all over the older woman in the process. Max watched her go, unable to suppress his raging laughter, despite his mom's venomous eyes and the stitches in his side.


	60. Chocolate Sauce

Okay, so this is Purple Afro's request: Max, Mariam, and chocolate sauce. This one was a joy to write – I really needed to write some lovey-dovey teenage MaxMariam. Gosh, I love these two!

I'm going to apologize ahead of time for any mistakes - I get a feeling there are quite a few...

As a side note, it's about 92 degrees Fahrenheit here. Ew.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

**Chocolate Sauce **

It was a scorcher that day. The sun shone sickeningly hot, forcing the thermometer to hover between one ungodly temperature and another, leaving no room for satisfaction. Anyone with air conditioning was taking full advantage of it. Those who weren't so lucky were stuck either melting into a sticky pile of sweat, making a desperate dash for the beach, or, in Max and Mariam's case, making the most of the sordid heat and sluggish humidity.

"This is such a waste of electricity…" Max spoke with no particular interest or care in what he was saying. He really _didn't_ care one bit. His mom might, but under the circumstances she wouldn't be able to blame him. Who cared how economically unfriendly it was to have the freezer door hanging wide open while you practically lay in it? What else could you do in such disgusting weather?

Mariam made a nonchalant noise from beside Max, looking close to sleep with her forehead rested against a bag of frozen vegetables. Max smiled at her and brushed away a small drop of sweat trailing its way down her bare back, causing a generous shiver to course through her. She shot Max a look and he flashed a smile.

"You want some ice cream, Mariam?" the American asked, seemingly out of the blue. In reality, a brand new carton of fudge swirl ice cream had been in his direct line of sight for however long they'd been cozying up to the freezer, and it was torture for his sweet tooth.

The blunette nodded, parting reluctantly with the cool air streaming out of the freezer and adjusted her bikini top and cut-off shorts that she'd worn to the beach earlier. She raised an eyebrow as Max looked her up and down a couple times, lingering on her legs. "I think the heat's getting to you, Maxie," she drawled out his name, and a blush spread across his freckly cheeks. She snickered to herself when he buried his upper torso in the freezer, supposedly searching for the desired frozen treat. He made messing with him too easy and enjoyable.

When Max emerged from the freezer a minute or so later, his blush had been reduced to nothing but a slight dusting. He set the frozen dessert on the island situated in the center of the kitchen and spotted Mariam reaching for a box of ice cream cones. Despite being on her tiptoes, Mariam's fingertips could only just brush the edge of the box. She hopped for it and managed to chase it back even further. Here, Max spotted an opportunity. He stood behind the Saint Shield and reached up to easily grab the ice cream cones and pull them down. All the time his bare torso was just centimeters from her back. He couldn't help but blush, even when he was taking the initiative.

Mariam turned around, trapped between her boyfriend and the granite countertop. She blinked slowly at him and sent a few pointed glances towards his lips. Just as he was leaning in, she snatched the cones out of his hand and slid out from her entrapment. He gave her a confused look.

"I don't want our ice cream to melt," she said with an innocent shrug.

The look on Max's face said he didn't believe in her innocence, but he didn't complain past a small pout. Instead, he pulled an ice cream scooper out of a drawer and went to fill the cones Mariam had set on the counter. When he'd finished, he signaled for his girlfriend to wait. He opened the fridge and found the bottle of chocolate sauce sitting on the door, and drizzled a generous amount onto his ice cream.

"Want some?" he asked, holding the bottle out in her direction.

"Sure, why not?" She held her cone out, and he slathered the sauce onto her ice cream as well. Max missed the mischievous glint in her eyes.

Once satisfied with the amount of chocolate contained in one ice cream cone, Max stuck the bottle of chocolate sauce back into the refrigerator, and started to lick the frozen treat. Just then, a squeak directed his attention back to Mariam and all the color returned to his face. She was staring at him out of the corner of her eye and licking up a trail of chocolate sauce that had begun to slide down her wrist.

He gulped and she smiled deviously.

Max wasn't aware of walking forward until he could see quite clearly a minuscule driblet of chocolate still sitting in the crease of Mariam's lips. She was staring up at him again, with those wide, piercing, green eyes, just begging for a kiss. He complied willingly, capturing her lips with his. He felt Mariam's arms reach up around his neck, pulling him farther down into her lips, and his skin erupted into a plethora of goose bumps. He smiled into the kiss, and slid his arms around her waist. His legs almost buckled beneath him when he felt her thumb stroke the back of his neck.

SLAM!

The kitchen door was practically one with the wall, thanks to Judy.

Max would have jumped a foot backward if Mariam's arms hadn't remained locked around his neck in a defiant display of affection.

Max's mom stood in the doorway, seething in anger. Mr. Tate was behind her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Judy opened her mouth to speak a few times, but seemed to be at a loss for words when it came to Max and his undesirable girlfriend making out in their swimsuits. Mariam had been coming around too often to purposefully annoy Judy and she was in no mood for a direct confrontation that day. Her face contorted into an expression of extreme anger, and she marched away in the direction of her room, shouting all the way.

With Judy gone, an embarrassed Max and a smug Mariam turned to look at Mr. Tate.

"Uh, we fixed the air conditioning, so it should start to cool down again soon…" His speech faded away as he stared at Max and Mariam, whose arms were still wrapped loosely around each other. Without another word, he gave them a huge smile and a thumbs-up, before hurrying after his wife.

Max watched him go, a bit of a guilty feeling prancing around in the pit of his stomach. He forgot all about it, though, when Mariam's voice brought his face back around to face her. "What?" he asked, having totally missed what she'd said.

Mariam sighed at his obliviousness. "Your ice cream is melting down my legs."

He glanced quickly at the island where Mariam's sat in a soupy mess, and sprung backwards when he realized that he did, indeed, still have his own ice cream in his hand. "Gah! Sorry!"

Mariam gave a short chuckle and winked. "That's okay - you'll just have to lick it up for me."

"WHAT?"

A beet-red and stammering Max was left to explain to his furious mother that Mariam wasn't serious, because his girlfriend had conveniently exploded into a fit of outrageous laughter at a passing Judy's outburst. His father was no help either.


	61. Cat and Mouse

A/N: I started this months ago, and it wasn't originally meant to be a drabble. It wasn't really meant to be anything actually…but this is what it turned into.

Also, you may or may not be glad to know that I think I may be getting back into a little bit of a writing groove. Today I just had this urge to sit down and write, write, write. That's what I'm attempting to do and I'm not sure how it'll work out, but I'm just glad I finally feel like writing again.

My mini comeback is dedicated to RedWheeler and soraskybeauty – both of whom I used to keep up regular correspondence with once upon a time. All the messages are currently lost in my inbox – I'll get back to you guys, seriously!

School sucks; requests coming soon; I own nothing; I love you all, even if my updates don't reflect it.

**Cat and Mouse**

He was constantly walking towards her, and she was constantly walking away. It had become a sort of game between them – so much so in fact, once in a while, he even ran and she pranced. He'd reach out to her with laughter fluttering from his throat and playing with his facial features. She'd raise an eyebrow and allow him to get so close before she'd dance away, shooting him the strangest of looks from her bright, knowing eyes.

"You're a weird kid, Maxie."

That much he knew. It didn't bother him, though. No matter how childish she claimed their game of cat and mouse was, he still enjoyed himself because he knew that, deep down, she was enjoying it as well. After all, when Mariam wasn't enjoying herself, a person found out quicker and more violently than they would've preferred.

From Max's point of view, her expressive disinterest in him lacked a certain vigor and relish usually present in her more realistic disinterests. That was how he knew she was having fun.

The more Max thought of it, the more convinced he became that in their game of cat and mouse, he was the mouse and Mariam was the cat, but he was still the one doing the chasing. He chased her helplessly, with the impression that when he finally caught up with her, she would decide she'd done enough running. He thought that instead of gobbling him up, she'd toss all her premonitions about how they were too different aside and become his friend. Maybe they'd even be more than that.

Mariam, on the other hand, was running from him, because she was more scared of herself than the little pest so insistent on catching up with her. It would be a waste of time, she decided, to pretend that she could be anything else to a mouse, than a cat – she didn't want to be responsible for tearing him apart if things went sour. But that didn't stop her from getting immense pleasure out of turning around and pouncing on him every once in a while, then pretending it never happened.

Besides, there was no harm in catching him off guard – they both loved it, even if _she _didn't admit it.


	62. Outtake

This is MidnightStar's request of a deleted scene of sorts from the episode where Max and Mariam are stuck in the collapsing building. The wait was long and I should be reprimanded. I'll have to have a talk with myself.

More requests coming up in the near future. If anyone would like to change their request they are free to do so, since it has been forever and a day since they were made. Preferences may have changed.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

**Outtake**

Max inhaled a little too deeply and coughed, choking on the dust that thickly clouded the air. He squinted at his surroundings, desperate to find Mariam before the building came down on top of them both.

"Mariam!" his call rang stale through the thundering roar of iron support beams and stone collapsing onto one another. The chaotic harmony made his ears ring.

He coughed again, more violently this time, and covered his mouth and nose with his hands. They smelled metallic and he realized that he was still clutching Draciel from when he had recalled it. He quickly slipped the blade into his pocket, not wanting to risk losing it.

The absence of a hand covering his nose caused another fit of coughs. He thought for a minute that the pulling of his collar was actually him choking to death. That was until he collided with the very body he'd been searching for. He squeaked when his brain registered that colliding with Mariam had squashed their bodies together, face to face and chest to chest, and tripped over his own feet trying to untangle from her. They both went down.

"Ow!" she shrieked, falling hard on her butt. "Ma-ax!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, spitting out blood as he sat up. "At least you're not the one that fell face first."

"That's not the point! Every time I'm anywhere alone with you, you fall on top of me! Are you trying to cop a feel or something?"

His face was overtaken by a spectacular blush. "No!" he stated firmly. "_You're_ the one who grabbed _my_ shirt, remember?"

"What, you think I enjoy having you fall on top of me? When I grabbed your collar I thought you knew how to stand like any normal person! Little did I know you have less balance than a two year-old!"

Max attempted a glare.

Mariam raised an eyebrow.

He frowned. "Look, Mariam. I know you don't like me at all-"

"We're enemies," she stated flatly.

Max huffed. "Yes, but arguing isn't going to get us out of here. Do you think we could call a truce just until we're safely out of this mess?"

She stared at him. One eyebrow was still raised. Max shuffled nervously under her gaze – he didn't like that look. She had defiance, anger and reluctance all packed into one glare, and it made him want to sink into the ground. And at the same time it annoyed him to no end.

"Your lip is still bleeding Max." She hopped to her feet and smoothed her skirt, turning on her heel. "And your nose is, too."

Max sat there with his jaw hanging and eyebrows knit together in an emotion that couldn't quite be called anger – it was more so incredulity. He didn't think he'd ever met someone so complex and difficult to be around! But still, something about her intrigued him. It was either the underlying possibility that she was more than she appeared and was hiding her true self for the sake of some Mission, or the fact that Max found her to be the most attractive-without-trying girl he'd ever seen.

"_Well?_" she almost growled at him.

He gave his own growl under his breath, and wiped the blood from his face before clambering to his feet. He walked purposefully past her, towards a giant crevice in the wall that opened up into a hallway he could only guess would lead to their escape. Then he stopped. "Ladies first."

Mariam rolled her eyes and shoved herself through. The broken pipes, wires and rough stone were hard to avoid, but she made it. "Are you coming?" she asked, turning to challenge Max from the other side. "Or will I have to send a search party back with a body bag?"

Max's eyes shot heavenward briefly, before he squirmed through. He was almost home free when his foot caught, causing him to lose his balance the second time that day. He fell, hands first, onto Mariam. In the scramble to get off of her, he was pretty sure he touched some places that he shouldn't have. She was swearing at him – some he recognized, some he didn't. This was going to be a long day.


	63. Hand In Mine

So, I found a list I made way back that had everyone's requests written down on it. I saw that RedWheeler had requested something from when Max and Mariam first started dating before she made another request at my request, because I forgot about her initial request. (XP) So, I smooshed it together with her current request – Max, Mariam, and a bus.

I have since lost this list, because our room's being renovated, so…it would be in everyone's best interest to check my profile for an important update on what's going down with the things I've owed you for over a year now.

I don't own Beyblade.

**Hand In Mine**

Mariam sat down next to him, and his heart fluttered. She smiled. He just sort of stared and grinned dazedly. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that he must look like a real idiot. It never quite reached the front of his mind, though. So he just kept staring and grinning. Like an idiot.

A ball of paper hit him in the back of the head.

He snapped out of it and turned around to see Rick looking pointedly at him. He saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye; Mariam had turned around, too. She rolled her eyes. They were beautiful and green. Her hand touched his shoulder, and she guided him back around. He could still feel her fingers long after they let him go.

"Your friends are ridiculous."

"Yeah."

Feeling as though his hands needed something to do, he worked on untangling the paper. There were several rather lewd suggestions scribbled in Michael's and Eddy's handwriting, and one nicer one written in Rick's. "Hold her hand," it said. Easy for Rick to say.

"Are you gonna do it?"

He jumped, subconsciously scrunching the paper up in the process.

"Do what?" he asked a little too quickly.

Mariam raised an eyebrow.

Max blushed.

"Hold my hand. Not the others. No way in hell I'd let you do the others." She smiled slyly. "Unless you had your heart set on some of those others?"

"N-no. Not particularly. Or not at all, really. I…no."

Mariam smirked and slipped her hand into Max's, giving it a squeeze. "I didn't think so." She planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "Good boy."

Max's face burned scarlet, and he bowed his head to hide his smile.


	64. Cuddle Couch

This image has been swimming around in my head for a while, and since I'm in the writing mood, I thought, why not? Although I'm not entirely happy with it for some reason… The title comes from shenanigans with my sister.

I do not own Beyblade.

P.S. I'm thinking about going back and fixing all the errors in previous drabbles to improve their quality, since this isn't a story that will be finished any time soon. Opinions?

**Cuddle Couch**

Max stirred from his slumber, hearing the telltale creak of the stairs. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep. He frowned slightly, remembering the evening's events.

He heard a sigh, and the padding of bare feet crossing the hardwood floor of the living room. Mariam sighed again – he could feel her eyes boring into his back. He knew she knew he was awake.

After some hesitation, she spoke. "I didn't want you to sleep on the couch, Max."

He stretched and rolled over to look up at her.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just going to give you some time to cool off."

There was a moment of awkward silence where each avoided the other's gaze.

Mariam rolled her eyes and climbed over the back of the couch. "Move over – this is my punishment for upsetting you and being upset with you."

Max did as he was told, and Mariam made herself comfortable between him and the sofa. He smiled when she pulled him closer to her and snuggled up against him. Then she just lay there, breathing deeply.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled after a moment, burying his nose and lips into her hair.

"Me too," she whispered.

He unraveled himself from her to kiss her soundly on the lips. "I love you." Even in the dark he saw her smile.

"I love you, too, Maxie." She curled against him again, nuzzling her face into his neck. "But let's not tell Judy we had our first post-marriage fight – she'll make something out of it."

Max chuckled, and Mariam smiled.


End file.
